#I don’t ever wear a scarf so maybe that’s a me problem lol

[mmelete]

We all know Twi is a Wolf Legend is a bunny, but hear me out….

blupee Ravio

Yes.

[secretobsessionstuff]

ok ill start by saying no problem if this takes a year!! you're clearly super busy + i will love reading all the fics that come before my ask hehehe. im on the dakota/blair bandwagon lately. for dakota, in a future fic could he stuff himself with a meal, but not drink enough water and have a very thick, dense problem on his hands when he finally starts puking forreal. blair could help him get it up, with rubs and words of encouragement? it makes me giddy to think about !! thats my request if you ever have time and if it sounds good. now off to read some more fiiic!!

Hello lovely Anon! I bet this legitimately took a year so I thank you for your immense patience. This is halloween themed because I wrote it way back in October lol 🧡

-----------------

Halloween fell on a Monday night that year, meaning Dakota and Blair acted like responsible adults by staying home. Work the next day meant they couldn’t spend the night at a party. Besides, most of their friends were pretending to be adults too, so there weren’t many parties being thrown in the first place. 

Dakota felt like a proper, boring middle-aged man as prepared to spend his night giving out candy. He sat on the porch, wearing fall gloves and a Halloween scarf. Candy corn danced across the scarf. It certainly was cold enough to justify the warm attire. Luckily, he could get away with a hoodie instead of a coat, so he was comfortable as he waited for children to walk up to the house. 

A bucket of chocolate bars and chips kept Dakota company. Though the candy couldn’t talk about its day, it was a decent substitute for his fiancée. Blair promised she would join him outside once she finished some extra work that she hadn’t been able to accomplish at the office. So, Dakota had to entertain himself with Kit Kats and mini bags of potato chips. It was relatively easy to forget his loneliness when his fingers were covered in Dorito Dust. He was in the middle of licking the cheesy residue off his fingers when Blair popped her head out the front door. 

“Hey! Those are for the kids,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him. 

“What kids?” Dakota spread his arms out, gesturing to the quiet street. “I’ve been out here an hour, and so far I’ve seen a pirate, a banana, and a something from Minecraft.” 

“That’s it?” Blair stepped outside in her socks and crossed her arms over her chest to stay warm. She looked up and down the street. She could see one or two families making their way to each house. Many houses on the street were dark. It made her pout. “Where is everyone?” 

“I don’t think there’s many kids in our neighbourhood,” Dakota said around a mouthful of chocolate. The Mars bar he chewed on was nearly frozen. It gave his jaw a workout to simply bite down of the gooey thing. Blair saw him reaching for another piece of candy but didn’t say anything. Her shoulders dropped in defeat. 

“Sit with me,” Dakota requested, eyeing the empty chair next to him. “You gotta be done working now.” 

“I’m almost there.” 

“Well, maybe you should…” –he opened his hand to reveal a Kit Kat resting on his palm— “take a break.” 

Blair chuckled at him before swiping the chocolate bar from his hand. She bit the thing in half without breaking apart the sticks, you know, like a monster. 

Dakota gawked at her. “How could you—No, no, get out of my face.” He waved her away with an exaggerated flick of his wrist. “You disgust me.” 

“You’re a child.” Blair stuck her tongue out at him. It still had chocolate on it. And yes, she saw the irony perfectly well. Before going back inside, she turned around to say, “Oh, I’m also making food, so you don’t need to be snacking on candy.” 

“I can do what I want because I’m an adult.” He threw a candy wrapper at her. It landed two millimetres from his own foot. He just stared down at it, the sting of betrayal in his heart. Blair laughed at him and left him on his own again. 

Dakota still had a silly smile on his face when the next trick or treaters showed up. Finally, more kids! These two were dressed as dogs with shiny black makeup on their noses. Dakota was delighted to see that the parents had whiskers and patches drawn on their faces as well. He waited for the kids to say their line before dropping candy in their bags. The sad turnout this year made him overly generous. He gave them each two bags of chips and a handful of chocolate bars as opposed to the standard two. He finished by saying Merry Christmas, to which the kids giggled and corrected the silly man. 

And that was it for a while. Dakota went back to snacking because that was the only thing to do. The big box of chocolate they bought came with four different bars, so obviously he had to have one of each. Then two more. Then another two. Pretty soon the pocket of his hoodie was stuffed with candy wrappers. The chocolate made his mouth sticky, and the salty chips made him wish he brought his water bottle outside with him. Unfortunately, he was too lazy to get up, so he suffered with the taste of caramel on his tongue. Truly it was torture, but for some reason he plunged his hand back into the candy bowl. 

As promised, Blair finally joined him on the porch. He told her about the horrifying monsters and trendy video games characters that he encountered all by himself. He even had to resist the urge to run away when a bottle of ketchup came asking for candy. 

Blair glanced at the bowl. She was pleased to see it was significantly less full. “So, more people showed up then?” 

“Sure, let’s go with that,” Dakota mumbled after burping into his fist. God, if only there had been more trick or treaters, Dakota might not have felt so full just then. 

“You didn’t!” 

He looked down at his lap, knowing that far too many candy wrappers were shoved into his pockets. And far too many sweets were shoved into his belly. “I’m fine,” he insisted when Blair give a surprised look. 

“I know you’re fine. It’s the kids I’m worried about.” 

“There’s plenty more candy, Bee.” 

She crossed her arms but conceded because she knew he was right. There were more treats, yet less and less trick or treaters. 

Blair had almost settled into her chair, when she jumped up. “Oh pizza. I made pizza.” She looked back and forth at Dakota and the bowl of candy. “That is, if you’re still hungry.” 

“You think I’d say no to pizza?” 

So, they ate their pizza outside, hoping that more kids would show up. A few did and they got enough candy for the entire year. 

Of course, Dakota did not say no pizza, but he did have less slices than he normally would. Halfway through his third slice, he realized that he was unusually full from the sweets he had earlier. It was a challenge to swallow the last bite because his mouth was terribly dry and his belly was terribly stuffed with food. 

“Shoot, I forgot to bring out drinks,” Blair said, as if she were reading his mind. But the both of them were comfy and couldn’t bring themselves to stand. And anyway, a giant inflatable t-rex was walking up to them which understandably stole their attention. 

After wishing the t-rex a happy Halloween, Dakota let a burp rumble up from his chest. He’d been holding it in while they spoke to the kid and her family. He could feel the pressure building in his throat. When he finally released the burp, it came up gooey and thick. It was the type of burp that brought him dangerously close to barfing in his mouth. Dakota shivered as he swallowed acid.

“Wow,” Blair said in response to the deep belch. “You must have been holding that one in.” 

Dakota grimaced and rubbed his chest. “Didn’t want to be rude.” 

“Rude to the t-rex?” 

“The kid was standing right in front of me, what did you want me to do?” 

Another belch burst from his mouth, splashing the back of his tongue with the taste of tomato sauce and chocolate—a weird combination that made him shudder with nausea. “Ugh, I shouldn’t have eaten so much.” 

“Your stomach upset?” 

Dakota nodded. “Feels like a fucking brick.” He used his fingertips to press down onto his abdomen. It was bloated and noisy. Grumbles and whines emanated from his gut. 

The tightness became too much to bear, so he stood up. Hopefully, moving around would help his stomach digest the sticky mess faster. 

For the first time that night, Dakota was glad that there weren’t many people out trick or treating. It was getting too late for kids now anyways, so he was likely safe to burp without fearing that strangers were about to walk up to him. 

Oh, but he did more than burp. He groaned and whined as he paced nervously. This was bad; he hadn’t realized how full he was until he stood up. He felt the food in his stomach shift and tumble together like one big gooey ball. He kneaded his belly, hoping to coax a bubble of air out of his system. His stomach was rock hard beneath his hand. 

“Fuck, Bee, this really hurts.” Despite the cold air, sweat coated his brow. 

Blair stood with him, worried by this sudden development. “Are you going to be sick?” 

“I’d like to. I’m way too full right now.”

Dakota bent forward with his hands on his knees. He tried to force up more burps, hoping that would give his stomach the go-ahead to empty itself. He should have felt bad for wasting perfectly tasty candy, but all he felt was an intense need to relieve the ache. A grating sound gurgled in his throat as his belly spasmed. 

The organ gave a small heave, sending up thick saliva and a pathetic amount of sick. Dakota spat a thick glob onto the ground with a moan. An uncomfortable chill zipped down his spine when the horrendous texture touched his tongue. He could fell chunks of sick trying to come up his throat, but it wasn’t moving. He retched again, his back arching violently. Still nothing came up. 

“Baby, that sounds horrible,” Blair cooed, placing a hand on his back. “Just let it out.” 

“I can’t,” he groaned. “It won’t come up. I wish—” he sniffled. “—I wish there were more liquid in my stomach. You know, to get things moving.”

“I’ll get you some water.” She gave his back a firm pat before leaving. 

Dakota breathed deeply through his nose. For a moment, he entertained the idea of jumping to get things rolling but decided that was a stupid idea. It would surely give him heartburn on top of the nausea. He may have felt like a child who devoured too much candy, but what he said to Blair earlier was right; He was an adult and he just had to suffer through the pain. No jumping. Just wait. 

Luckily his patience paid off because a minute later, his stomach lurched on its own. 

A thick wave of vomit came rushing up his throat. He felt the chunks in his mouth for a second before the sick splattered at his feet. He was far from done. Another guttural retch tore up his throat. It was empty. Dakota huffed and hoped the next lurch would be productive. 

Blair came back with his water bottle just in time to see him choke up a mouthful of dense vomit. He had to spit it out because it wasn’t flowing on its own. She was surprised to see that there was already a sizeable puddle at his feet. 

He managed to take in a sharp inhale in between bouts, shooting a miserable look at his fiancée 

Blair pouted at him and began rubbing big circles on his back. “At least you’ll start feeling better now.” 

Dakota hugged his middle. “There’s more. I can feel it.” He winced and pressed his hand right below his rib. “Can you help me? Maybe rub my stomach?” 

“Chug this water first.” She handed him the bottle and watched his throat bob as he drank. He kept a hand on his bloated belly. 

A hearty belch burst from his mouth when he finished. Saliva dripped from his lips. 

“Here we go,” Blair said, gently placing both her hands on his stomach. She used the heel of her hand to massage the area. Her touch coaxed out another wet burp almost immediately. “Oh, that’s it. Lean forward.”  

Dakota put his hands on his knees again to get his stomach at a better angle. That, coupled with the fact that Blair applied the right amount pressure, meant that the next wave came up easily. It was wet and fell past his lips like a waterfall. 

“Yes, Kota. Get it all up. That’s it.” Blair somehow knew when to use a gentle touch and when to go firmer. With every move she made him feel a little bit better. She kept whispering by his ear, telling him that he was doing good. She could feel the tension in his back melt off his tired muscles. 

With one last heave, Dakota brought up everything in his stomach. The last remnants of chocolate and candy splattered into the impressive puddle that he made. 

Finally, he stood up straight, no longer feeling that uncomfortable fullness. His throat was raw, and his abs were on fire, but he was free of the pressure and the ache. 

He was not, however, free of the embarrassment that came with the overindulgence. He let out a long exhale and rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks. I really needed that.” 

“I know.” Blair grinned at him. “You must be tired after that. Ready to get your jammies on and brush your teeth?” 

“Shut up. We must never speak of what happened on this frightful Hallows Eve.” 

“It’ll make a good cautionary tale. Kids need to know the dangers of too many sweets.” 

“And not enough hydration.” 

Blair shook her head at him. “That too.” She grabbed his arm and led him inside. “Seriously, how’s your stomach doing now?” 

“It hurts. Never underestimate the importance of drinking water.” 

She chuckled softly. “I’ll try to remember that next time you get your hands on candy.” 

[cuttoothed]

Getting this in just under the wire for day 1 of @jonmartinweek prompt “Comfy Jumpers”. I get so much joy from writing these two in s1 and thinking “lol you idiots are going to be in love some day.”

*

Martin knows that Jon doesn’t approve of the way he dresses.

It’s not exactly a surprise. Jon doesn’t approve of much about Martin: his report-writing, his Latin translations, even his very existence seems to irk Jon at times. Frankly, the feeling is mutual. Martin was perfectly happy working in the library, where his boss wasn’t an overbearing perfectionist arsehole, and if he’d been given a choice in the matter he’d still be shelving books and updating the filing systems, not getting glared at for his clothing choices. He’s well aware that Jon never wanted him in the Archives either, but they’re here now, so Mister Head Archivist is just going to have to live with it. They’re both going to have to.

Jon isn’t subtle about his displeasure; it’s difficult to miss his pointed scowls at Martin’s scuffed trainers and graphic-print t-shirts. And considering that Sasha wears jeans and t-shirts some days as well—though admittedly she tends to plain colors or muted prints, rather than retro video game characters—it’s pretty clear that it’s less about the clothes than it is the person wearing them.

Well, Jon can scowl all he wants, because everything Martin wears technically falls within the Institute’s dress code and there’s not a word Jon can say to him.

Martin has always run hot, so as winter closes in and other people are bundling up in heavy coats and jumpers, he throws hoodies over his t-shirts and zips them up only far enough that the bright graphic prints are still clearly visible to Jon’s critical eye.

Yeah, he thinks sometimes when he walks into Jon’s office, get an eyeful of Yoshi and see how you like it.

Jon, for his part, seems determined to outlast the winter in his usual dress shirt and tweed jacket combo. Martin knows that Jon isn’t particularly warm blooded—he’s seen the way the man huddles into his jacket like a tortoise in its shell until the central heating warms the basement up in the mornings—but he still refuses to add so much as an argyle sweater vest to his outfit in deference to the season.

The only concession Jon makes to the weather is a voluminous gray overcoat and a dark purple scarf, which he takes off the moment he gets into the office, regardless of how cold it is before the ancient heating system creaks to life.

And, well, it’s none of Martin’s business if his boss is too much of a pompous arse to dress appropriately for the weather. If he wants to freeze his backside off to maintain his academic dignity, far be it from Martin to intervene. Martin doesn’t feel sorry for him, when he sees Jon blowing on his fingers to warm them up, or briskly rubbing his arms while he waits for the kettle to boil and he thinks nobody else is around. Not in the slightest.

It’s below zero on the day in December when the central heating finally gives up the ghost. Even Martin can feel the chill in the Archives this morning, keeps his hoodie zipped up all the way even when he runs into Jon in the kitchenette. Jon looks miserably cold, his shoulders hunched and his movements stiff as he makes his tea.

“Morning, Jon,” Martin says cheerfully. “Bit nippy, isn’t it?”

“Just a bit,” says Jon sardonically. Somewhere overhead, there’s a metallic clanking as the heating system starts up.

“Finally,” Jon mutters, casting his eyes upward. The pipes creak and clank some more, and there’s an odd whirring sound that Martin’s fairly sure isn’t normal, and then a long, descending groan into silence.

“Oh,” says Martin. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“Bloody hell,” says Jon, and storms off to his office. A while later, he sends an email to inform them all that he’s spoken to Elias and the heating is out for the whole building, and that they should all feel free to work from home for the rest of the day if they choose. Sasha and Tim waste no time packing up, but Martin lingers, agonizing over which notes and references he should take with him. He’s never before had a job where working from home was an option, and he isn’t Tim or Sasha, isn’t someone Jon trusts and actually wanted to work with. Martin needs to make sure he gets it right.

At last he thinks he has everything he needs, but still Martin is hesitating, fiddling with the strap of his satchel. Maybe he should just check in with Jon before he leaves, make sure there isn’t anything else he needs to do. Make sure Jon knows I’m going to be working today, not just skiving off.

The door to Jon’s office is standing ajar; Martin taps on it, and pokes his head in without waiting for a response.

Jon looks up as he walks in, his expression startled. He is wearing a jumper. A chunky knit jumper in a warm maroon color, with a Christmas tree and several reindeer on the front. One of the reindeer has a red bobble for a nose. The jumper is oversized, the ends of the sleeves falling past Jon’s wrists.

It’s...incredibly cute, which is not a term that Martin ever expected to associate with his arsehole boss. Attractive, in a severe, unattainable way, sure, but not cute. Yet somehow, here they are.

“Ah, Martin,” Jon says, looking flustered. “I, uh, I thought you’d left with the others?”

“I was—I just wanted to check in with you first, make sure you didn’t need anything. You should head home too, it’s freezing in here.”

“I—I’m perfectly fine.” Jon plucks at the front of the jumper, looking embarrassed. “This is, ah, I bought this for the Institute Christmas party, but it’s surprisingly warm—and quite comfortable.”

“Oh, that’s, uh, that’s not part of your usual wardrobe then?” Martin hazards a chuckle, and to his relief, Jon huffs an amused breath. He raises a hand to adjust his glasses, but his sleeve gets in the way; he pushes both sleeves up to the elbows, and oh no, that’s even cuter.

“No, not—not usually,” he says. Martin frowns, suddenly remembering.

“You didn’t wear it at the party last week, though?”

“No, it’s—it was from the previous year, when I was in Research. It-it didn’t seem appropriate this year, being in a management role. Fortunately I still had it in a box, though I, uh, I didn’t really expect anyone to see me in it.”

Martin feels a sudden pang of something that might be sympathy. He understands how it feels, the desperate pressure to be professional, to be taken seriously, the constant second guessing of what you’re doing, whether you’re giving away something you shouldn’t. It’s hardly the same, of course: Jon’s not likely to be fired for wearing a silly jumper. But...Martin gets it.

“Actually,” he lies, “I, uh, I have to meet with Sophie up in the library later, so I’m around for the day. I was just going to go out and pick up some early lunch. Thought I’d see if you want anything?”

“Oh, ah, where are you going?” Jon asks tentatively, looking surprised at the offer.

“I was thinking of that cafe just around the corner—maybe get some soup and a sandwich?”

“That would be...very nice, actually. If you’re sure you don’t mind?”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I did,” says Martin, and takes the ten pound note Jon offers him.

“Thank you, Martin,” says Jon, and it’s the probably the most sincere thing Martin’s ever heard him say. He finds himself smiling without meaning to.

“Not a problem.”

It’s too early for lunch, really, but Martin knows Jon never eats breakfast and he missed it himself this morning. He gets two portions of steaming tomato and basil soup and toasted cheese sandwiches from the cafe, and when he gets back, Jon’s found a small space heater to plug in, so his office is marginally warmer than the rest of the Archives. They sit on opposite sides of Jon’s desk to eat, talking about the case that Martin’s working on. It’s the first time Martin’s actually had the chance to properly discuss a case, rather than stumbling through his report while Jon watches expectantly; Jon listens, and asks questions, and even offers some helpful suggestions for Martin’s follow up. It’s...oddly nice.

(Jon also continues to look unreasonably cute in his oversized Christmas jumper, but Martin carefully ignores that.)

The heating gets fixed by early afternoon, and the Archives warm up to the point where Martin can unzip his hoodie. When he drops off his finished case report to Jon’s office, Jon is back in his shirt and jacket, the maroon jumper packed away out of sight. He looks perfectly staid and professional once again. I saw you looking cute, though, Martin thinks, and then tries to pretend he didn’t; he is not going down that route.

Jon glances up when Martin comes in, taking in the “Marvin the Martian” t-shirt that’s now visible beneath his hoodie. Instead of a disapproving scowl, however, he gives a small, hesitant smile.

“Thank you, Martin,” he says as he takes the report, and something flutters warm in Martin’s chest.

Oh no, he thinks.

[jiminrings]

omg omg omg... what if jk sees yn WALKING TAE HOME?? like it looks like that but they’re just passing by his place or something and he’s actually walking yn home ?? and to make matters worse jk THOUGHT it wasn’t like that but someone told him “oh yeah she’s walking him home, she’s always done that with him” sorry if it’s not an original idea

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

it’s raining at a party and jungkook gets the wrong idea

“good evening.”

yoongi sQUAWKS at the shock that’s mere inches away from his face, having only woken up from his afternoon nap that ended up with him waking right before dinner

why were you all up in his face

what the fuck was that for ://

“god, never do that to me again,” he grumbles at the abrupt awakening even if it’s his system that told him to, only a convenience that you happen to be there when he was starting to shift in his now-shallow slumber

“guess what!!!”

oh you’re squealinG??? alright that must be good

it’s nice to hear you excited anyways because you haven’t been for a long time ever since j*ngkook lol

“just show me,” yoongi sits up fully from his position on the couch, rubbing the remaining sleep off his eyes

normally, you would be pissed instantly because him not guessing just spoils your whole excitement

but tHIS time you don’t look bothered at the slightest, proceeding to take his faux disinterest in stride

the door clicks open and seokjin strides in like he owns the place, trying to immerse himself in the situation he’s walked on as fast as possible

you squeal in regard, eyes now switching between him and yoongi before you whip out something from behind your back

“i got a lunchbox!!!!”

you thrust the lunchbox (you recreated it in the way you receiver it) to yoongi’s face and he flinches momentarily, eyes focusing on the lunchbox first before his mind processes your words

“that is a really shiny scarf it’s — wait what??”

you,,, gOT A LUNCHBOX????

..... and it’s not from him??

yoongi looks at seokjin and the way he looks perplex but definitely sure confirms that it isn’t him either

“so someone — you received a lunchbox. huh.”

WOOOOOOW

you nod earnestly, admiring the shiny scarf and the handiwork of an embroidery that’s your name on it

“yup! i was with taehyung when i noticed it on the corner of the room.”

oh god

seokjin scratches the back of his head and it’s a dead giveaway that yoongi notices, something sketchy definitely up in the air that shouldn’t be there

“yoongi! come here for a sec. i have a uh, question about weed :-)”

jin is nOT good when it comes to segues

he takes the liberty to pull aside a yoongi who has question marks knitted on his eyebrows, his gaze immediately trained on him once they’re far enough away from you

“long story but!!!!! that jungkook kid gave y/n the lunchbox. taehyung just happened to be there.”

you see

yoongi could only digest multiple things from a single sentence at once

but the problem is, he’s digesting EVERYTHING from jin’s sentence and he didn’t want to

he’s just gonna omit the parts he hates the most :D

“y/n. taehyung gave you that lunchbox. say thank you to him tomorrow morning.”

NO??????

jin sputters because that is clearly not the truth he’s just said

and apparently, you seem to think so to because you just laughed at his cutthroat statement

“no he didn’t,” you heartily laugh, putting down the lunchbox before crossing your arms across his chest

no way

both jin and yoongs freeze this time because does that mean you already know who gave the lunchbox to you??

and if you know who, and if you’re laughing right now,,,, does that mean you’ve already forgiven jungkook????

pls say no

“i already thanked taehyung, yoongs,” you smile at the fresh memory, “but two seconds later, he told me that he WASN’T the one who made it for me. he said he’s good at baking, but horrendous at cooking!!!!”

...

.....

“....... so you really don’t know who it is?”

“nope! not a clue :D”

whew

yoongi thinks you should never get to know who it is

jin thinks you shouldn’t know who it is tHIS early

yoongi dodges the topic easily to refrain from dwelling on it any longer, about to send an angry text full of queries to jin later on

“mmm. what was the lunch?”

“my favorite!!!” you beam and even whip out your phone to show them the picture of the food you ravaged hours ago

you turn your eyes to jin, giddy in excitement while yoongi’s holding your phone-holding hand to zoom into the picture

“and it’s just like your recipe!!!”

.. hehe

..... that’s because it his

goddamn jungkook managed to recreate it like his recipe???? hmm commendable

alright yoongi’s angrily looking at him rn

maybe he’ll send an angry paragraph text this time >:(

“weren’t you concerned like... since you don’t know the person? what if they poisoned your lunch?”

yoongi suggests in an attempt to make you think rationally, away from his insistence that you should nEVER know that jungkook made you your favorite

“then i got a good meal out of it.”

:O

that’s not,,,, that’s not a good answer

b-bestie ??????

both yoongi and jin are speechless and the former takes the lead once more, clearing his throat because the conflict of this lunchbox thing is presenting makes his head ache

“anyways, there’s another party tonight.”

you raise your hand quick in the prospect of unwinding for free

“i’m in!!”

“you should be. hoseok’s the host.”

that makes it even better!!!

it apparently doesn’t for mr. student affairs because jin groans in annoyance, not really digging his school official position because he’d need to sit this one out forcibly :///

“goddamn it. jung’s throwing it? his parties are sO good that it even reached our radar when i was still a senior!”

it it reaches senior-level status of approval then that’s like,,,, the only seal of approval you’d ever need

“no way,” you’re awed at the newfound fact, not expecting that hoseok was already an A+ party-thrower even before he became a senior this year

“even namjoon liked his parties.”

namjoon THEE student registrar??? the same namjoon as in your friend by extension because he’s sort of a friend to seokjin???? :O

“really? even namjoon found his parties great??? BUT HE’S LIKE-“ yoongi finds the right substitute words to a stick up his ass in the most respectful way possible because he’s sort of friends with the guy too, “he’s like namjoon,, he’s the antithesis to hoseok.”

jin shrugs because everyone knows the saying at this point

there’s something for everyone at jung’s

“wear a face mask?” yoongi suggests to jin so he wouldn’t be recognized, knowing he’s a lil upset that he can’t come to this party because the face he boasts about is known by everybody

“no. i’m gonna look like a fucking narc, yoongi.”

alright that makes sense

he bounces back from that, waving his hand to shoo you and yoongi off

“sucks. yeah whatever. i’ll hold the fort down, just don’t do anything stupid enough for me to pick you up.”

:)

you’re not gonna do anything stupid!! :)

jungkook’s too down to even focus at the moment

he’s at his desk and he’s supposed to study for a test tomorrow, and all the material needed for it is engraved in his mind already, but well

yeah his mind’s only fixed on you right now and not chemistry

“she thought it was someone else who gave her the lunchbox.”

jin flinches as his door bursts open, his lunch break sign posted rIGHT outside the door to avoid things like these happening

oh it’s jungkook

oh. it’s jungkook ://

“i keep telling you that counseling’s right next door, kid.”

jin himself digs the running joke but jungkook apparently doesn’t, a sorrowed look to his face that can’t be fixed by some teasing

jin ignored that obviously because it’s not like he’s on jeon’s side!! he’s just here to be as neutral and realistic as much as possible

“and besides, it’s not like you put your name on it, right?? wasn’t that your whole purpose? do it to her like she did to you?

”m-my name...,. i’ll put my name...?”

WAIT HOLD ON

jungkook jolts from his desk, an epiphany forming in his mind

he may not have understood the interaction he had with mr. kim hours ago, but after replaying it in his head for hours now (along with that part of you mistaking taehyung to be the giver), he fINALLY gets an idea

he rushes out of his room and right to the couch where jimin’s sprawled out and watching a movie

“hi jimin!!! is there a party tonight?”

jimin almost falls out of his seat from the surprise of seeing jungkook altogether, gripping his chest

“f-fuck! — yeah. yeah dude, there’s a party tonight...?”

wait why is he asking

“o-okay!! take me with you.”

WHAT

jimin’s surprised that jungkook wants to come with, let alone even ask in the first place

buuuut jimin’s a good friend and he’ll say his assurances first before he gets to asking the why aspect to this

“alright. by the way about last time, kook — i swear i won’t leave you alone this time!! i’m gonna hold my alcohol in and-“

“no, no!” jungkook interrupts and shakes his head strongly, spooking jimin for a second with how determined he looks

“you can leave me alone at the party!! i-i’ll be there on my own.”

this is his idea

he’s a man with a plan!!! he’s also a man who has your eyedrops and the various containers he made with it inside his gigantic hoodie pocket

he’s more comfortable now than he was the first time he came around at a party

he knows you’re here somewhere along the crowd and that alone brings him comfort :-)

“i’m gonna go outside. these vape juices are annoying.”

you huff the moment you get a whiff of sriracha-flavored vape juice one more time, the whole area where you happen to sit in being the most annoyingly-scented room in the whole house

who does that!!!!! who gets condiments as their fucking vape juice!!!!!

yoongi waves you off as he’s also nearing his limit too, his peeve being mint chocolate juice and he’s gonna dip as sOON as this dude at the corner tries blowing it into laughable smoke rings again

yeah that’s what fresh air smells like alright

.... and rain??

it’s raining???

wow you haven’t even noticed and practically no one else did

hoseok’s sound system must be too good for none of you to notice that it’s raining outside!! a light shower that looks like it’s gonna turn into buckets within a matter of minutes

“Y/N!!!”

a voice yells into the street and your eyes widen with how loud it is, squinting your eyes hard to try and see the source

is that-

��TAEHYUNG?!?!”

is he running towards you??

wait why is he running towards you

(tae actually found out about this party through yoongi and he heard that there were non-alcoholic jello shots and mini cake hors d’oeuvres which are his favorites so he’s sprinting)

the way that he’s running towards you and the water that puddles when he steps gives you anxiety, a worried lilt to your yell

“TAE?? BE CAREFUL IT’S-“

taehyung can’t register what you just yelled out because before he knows it, he slips

he slips suddenly in the rain and there’s a harsh twist to his ankle in doing so that makes him choke out

“WHAT DID YOU — FUCK!!^]%{^]”

oh my god

you grab the nearest umbrella in the rack from your right, speed-walking to where taehyung’s fallen on the ground

he’s visibly startled, blubbering when you get to him

“i-i’m not crying. it’s the rain.”

of course :-)

you lift taehyung without much help from him since it’s hard for him to shift his body weight into one foot, putting yourself underneath his arm

“yeah, i believe you,” you smile as to comfort him and he returns it in relief, knocking the side of his head to the top of yours because his adrenaline’s through the roof

“i’ll walk you home. or to the emergency room. your call.”

“ER please??? god, m-my roommate’s into crystals and i don’t think amethyst can help me with this.”

yeah lmao that’s your cue to start walking

you text seokjin to meet you at the hospital instead of here, having to consider the fact that an official from student affairs is picking you up and is indeed your best friend being enough of a shock for poor taehyung at the moment

jungkook’s been looking for you for the past minute ever since you stood up from the couch, following you out the door but uh,,, you’re not here??

who is here?

oh wait!!! that’s vernon at the bench by the front foor!!! he’s from his stem class :D

“was that y/n? a-and taehyung?”

jungkook doesn’t beat around the bush because he’s sort of friends with the guy too, the same guy who’s a lil giggly with the daiquiris at the moment

“hey jimin!! what’s up dude? yeah, that was y/n and taehyung.”

uhm what

jimin’s BLONDE!! how could he get mistaken for jimin?

jungkook ignores the mistaken identity, eyes anxiously pointing towards the road again

“she’s walking him home?”

“totally. she’s always done that with him.”

what

..... what

he’s trying to trust it on good faith that vernon absolutely doesn’t know what he’s talking about

jungkook’s hurt but god does that pain shoot through him instantly, getting out of the porch wistlessly

wAIT

that’s you!!! that’s still you!!!!

and you’re-

????

you’re holding up taehyung and he’s limping

your ears pick up on the sudden running behind you and that pANICS you and in turn panics tae

but that doesn’t matter

it shouldn’t.

the cabs are atleast three more blocks away and neither of you brought a car because the dorms are walking-distance

everyone that’s left at the party has got to be too intoxicated to even put a key in the ignition

the weight on your shoulder eases and it makes you stop in your tracks to see if tae’s suddenly regrouped

is that —

jungkook lifts taehyung by his other arm, the light shower of rain making his hair damp without an umbrella like yours

“taehyung’s hurt.”

it only registers now that you’re seeing jungkook and he’s right here, surprising you as a whole

jungkook’s as startled as you are, swallowing the nervousness upon seeing you to get his words out

“a-and i wanna talk to you.”

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Winter Sunshine

Haley (Stardew Valley) x They/Them Reader

A/N: As far as warnings go, the only thing that may not be your cup of tea are the suggestive themes in the last bit of the fic like, last couple sentences. Nothing explicit. Hope you enjoy! Also I’m adding word counts now because it's even a surprise to me how much I’m actually writing on the tiny screen of my phone lol. Word Count: 1,672

“This better be worth it.” Haley grumbled to herself as she trudged through the slushy snow. Her arms wrapped tightly around herself did nothing to fight back the bone chilling wind that burned her nose and cheeks, relentlessly blowing her hair into a tangled mess and undoing the hour long efforts to make it look nice for her farmer.

“It’s their fault I’m out here in the first place. If they have a problem with my hair, I’ll tackle them to the ground and give them a whitewashing they’ll never forget,” Haley told herself. In previous winters, nothing could make Haley leave the warmth of the home she shared with her sister. The snow while admittedly charming, somewhat romantic, did not impress Haley at all. Not when it meant she would have to freeze her ass off. There was no beach combing or sunflowers in winter, ice cream lost its appeal, and her photography suffered because again, it was too cold! Mittens made her clumsy, Haley would hate to lose her camera in a snowbank. Even with her mittens, her fingers felt frozen. It simply wasn’t worth it. But for her farmer, she would brave the ice and snow just to see their stupid, cute, face.

It was only five in the evening, but the sun was already good as gone. The faint glow of (Y/n)’s porch light helped guide Haley through the frigid fields, her boots finally clomped onto the the solid steps of the porch. She stomped her feet to kick the snow free from her boots, thuds resonated off of the sturdy wood.

The noise stirred movement from inside the house. The front door swung open revealing the farmer, looking, in Haley’s humble opinion, overly enthusiastic.

“Haley, you made it!” (Y/n) grinned, stepping out of the warm house and closing the door behind them much to Haley’s dismay.

“What are you doing? You aren’t even wearing a coat, it’s freezing!” Haley scolded, wrapping her arms around the farmer for no other reason than to keep them warm. No ulterior motives here.

“Don’t worry. It’ll be plenty warm where we’re going. So, you think you can walk a couple dozen more yards?” (Y/n) asked, fixing a couple of Haley’s stray hairs.

“Ugh, if I must.” Haley groaned.

“You don’t have to. We could just head inside right now and have warm tea and cuddles. Far be it from me to tell you what you have to do,” (Y/n) laughed and Haley rolled her eyes.

“Let’s just go already. If I have to stand here any longer I’m going to lose my finger and toes to frostbite.” Haley bounded off down the steps, nearly falling backwards after she hit a patch of ice. Luckily (Y/n) caught her, smiling down at the blonde in their arms, they helped her regain her footing and took her hand.

“This way,” they said. (Y/n) would have loved to tease Haley with some cheesy line about falling in love and the like, but Haley’s patience was already running thin. Best not to comment on the close call and just take it in stride.

(Y/n) guided Haley to the opposite end of the farm, becoming more excited with every step, earning a look from their companion that was equal parts suspicious and amused.

“Where are we even going?” Haley asked.

“You’ll see. Almost there. If you look ahead, you might see it.”

Haley squinted against the darkness and sure enough, she saw a large building looming just ahead.

“I can’t believe it. Did you commission Robin to build another barn?” Haley asked, incredulously.

“Not quite!” (Y/n) chirped.

“You have wayyy to much free time on your hands now that winter is in full swing. Just what have you been up to?”

(Y/n) didn’t answer, instead picking up the pace and tugging Haley closer. Ignoring Haley’s complaints until they stood in front of the large glass building.

“Whoa,” Haley breathed out once she finally caught her breath. “How did you manage this?” She asked, not disguising the awe in her voice.

“Let’s just say I got a little help from some friends,” They shrugged, “Do you like it?”

“You didn’t just drag me further out in the cold to look at the outside of a greenhouse did you?” Haley asked. “Let me in and I’ll think about giving you an answer.”

“Alright, you drive a hard bargain.” (Y/n) nodded. “But could you do something for me first?”

“You’re stalling. It’s winter and I’m dying of cold, and you’re stalling.” Haley stated dramatically. “Hey!”

(Y/n) laughed and pulled Haley’s knitted hat over her eyes. They took Haley’s hands before she could pull it back up and give (Y/n) a piece of her mind.

“Come on, just for a second, I promise.” (Y/n) swore. Haley scoffed and allowed herself to be tugged forward.

Haley heard the door open and she couldn’t help the relieved sigh that escaped her lips as a humid warmth enveloped her body. (Y/n) led her further into the space, then let go of her. They quickly moved behind Haley to shut the door then came back to hug Haley from behind.

“Okay, you can look now.” (Y/n) said. Haley could detect a slight tremor in their voice as they spoke against her ear. Were they nervous? Why?

Haley pushed her hat back and blinked, rubbing her eyes over the harsh brightness of the lights. (Y/n) must have turned them on. Once she regained her sight, Haley’s eyes blew wide at the sight before her.

“(Y/n), oh my Yoba!” Haley gasped.

“Surprise! Do you like them?” (Y/n) asked, wringing their hands.

Haley turned to look at them, her features painted with ecstatic disbelief. “Are you kidding? I love them!” Haley smiled so brightly (Y/n) couldn’t help but match her enthusiasm full heartedly. “I mean, sunflowers, growing in the dead of winter. It’s amazing!”

Haley turned away from (Y/n) again and walked up to the nearest sunflower, growing just as well as it would have on any normal summer or fall day. She touched its petals gingerly and felt its warmth work its way through her very soul. How had she been so lucky to find someone as attentive and endlessly sweet as the farmer behind her?

She felt the arms snake around her again and she eagerly held them to her stomach, anything to show how much this gesture meant to her.

“I’ve been thinking about you and winter a lot lately. You’re right in saying that the season gives me quite a bit of free time.” (Y/n) spoke in a soft tone resting their chin on Haley’s shoulder. “And I thought that maybe, this could give you something to look forward to when the snow and ice have got you down.”

Haley turned in (Y/n)’s arms and wrapped her own over (Y/n)’s shoulders, clasping her hands behind their neck. “I love it, I really do and I love you too, so much. Yoba, how am I ever going to get you something even close to this!” She whined, burying her face in the farmer’s chest.

“Haley, just having you here to share this with is more than enough for me,” (Y/n)’s voice wavered again and Haley looked into their eyes.

“(Y/n), what’s wrong? Why are you so nervous?”

“I also had another idea of how to make winter special for us. Something that would help you have memories to look back on fondly every winter. I’m just-“ they took a deep breath, “man, I was so ready this morning but now that the time is finally here-“

Haley silenced (Y/n) with a kiss. It was chaste, quick, but it helped (Y/n) ground themself.

“Come on, you’ve fought monsters in the deepest, darkest parts of the mines from here to the Calico Desert. You shouldn’t be scared of your own girlfriend.” Haley giggled good naturedly, earning a chuckle from (Y/n) as well.

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” (Y/n) simpered. They stepped out of Haley’s hold and reached into their shirt pocket. Withdrawing their fist, they presented it to Haley who analyzed the closed fingers intently. “Haley, in the dead of winter, where all is cold and dark, will you become my warmth, my light, will you marry me?” (Y/n) opened their clenched fist and Haley’s hands flew to her mouth as the bright blue pendant was revealed.

“(Y/n)!” Haley cried, her voice muffled by her gloved hands. “Yes, I’ll marry you!” She lunged forward, grasping (Y/n)’s back for dear life and buried her face in their neck.

“Really?” (Y/n) sniffled holding Haley just as tightly.

“Of course! Nothing would make me happier!” Haley asserted, pulling away just a hair, “Please help me put it on.” She frantically took off her scarf, mittens, coat, and hat, throwing them off to the side. Then she turned away from (Y/n) and held her tangled hair up, allowing her newly betrothed to slip their hands through her arms and secure the pendant around her neck. Haley turned the shell in her hand and laughed breathlessly. She turned and launched herself back into (Y/n)’s arms for a kiss much more involved than the last.

“I love you,” Haley said again, holding (Y/n)’s face in her hands, a small, mischievous smile gracing her lips. She pulled away from (Y/n) and much to the other’s confusion, she walked backwards into the tall sunflower stalks until (Y/n) couldn’t see her.

“Haley?” (Y/n) called after a moment of silence. Somewhere from the back of the greenhouse, (Y/n) could see a shirt get tossed into the air before fluttering back down into the dense vegetation and they couldn’t help but laugh. “Wouldn’t you rather do this back at the house?”

“We’d have to go outside first, by the time we got back I might not be feeling so generous.” Came the faint reply.

(Y/n) watched as another article of clothing was thrown upward and swallowed thickly. They grabbed Haley’s winter coat from the floor and darted into the crops, following the sound of giggles and rustling leaves.

[nose-bandaid]

layers

DK (Seokmin) x (gender neutral) Reader | college AU fluff | 4.2k words

synopsis: seokmin first captured your attention with his smile, and you were more than enthralled. then you captured HIS attention by utterly destroying his favourite scarf and then fleeing the scene (oops). but surely you can fix this before things get awkward, right?

a/n: it ended up more platonic than it did romantic but oh well,,, this is a very specific plot i apologize LOL

taglist: @elcie-chxn​ @woozisnoots​ (hi alex this is the seokmin fic you asked me to tag you in like MONTHS ago sksfhdjkjdsf) [send and ask or dm if you ever wanna be tagged in my works!]

=====

You've always called him the scarf boy. On alternating days, it was the sunshine(y) boy.

The first day you met him was actually about a week into the semester, when you glanced over to your left and saw him sitting on the other side of the lecture hall. Nothing out of the ordinary. Normally, you would’ve just looked away and carried on with your life. It’s not unusual for your eyes to wander around as you zoned in and out of the professor’s speech. That's what you get for always staying up late the night before.

But on that day, you found your eyes fixated on the boy for the next few minutes, and you watched as he whispered something to his friend. It must’ve been something funny because soon they were both giggling like fools and he smiled from ear to ear. 

And it was that smile that captivated you because you don't think you've ever seen such a bright smile before. 

His face was familiar. Surely you've seen him many, many times before today, you thought. And yet you couldn't place a name on the classmate.

You brought your attention back to the lecture for a brief second and then looked at your friend, Seungkwan, who sat to your left. You gently nudged him with your elbow and he spared a glance your way before going back to his notes. You nudged him again, this time a little harder.

“Hm?” He still didn’t look up from his notebook, but you knew you had his attention now.

“Do you know who that guy is?” You gestured with your head in the smiley boy’s direction, and Seungkwan finally looked up to follow your gaze.

“Oh, you mean the literal ball of sunshine that doesn't know how to shut up?” He replied in one breath.

“Huh?”

"I said that as a good thing, by the way. Or, for the most part. His name is Lee Seokmin, everyone on campus calls him a happy virus 'cause he keeps on smiling." He paused to scribble something down. 

It was probably something important and you should've written it as well, but you could tell he had more to say. You patiently waited. 

"I've heard that he's in the theatre club, but I'm not too sure. He's Soonyoung's friend, but not really mine."

"So he's a theatre kid, huh." You echoed quietly and Seungkwan quirked an eyebrow.

"Why are you asking? Also, I'm not lending my notes, it's your problem for not paying attention."

"I was just wondering." You answered a little too quickly but tried to divert the attention elsewhere by busying yourself with re-organizing your own notes. "And if you lend me notes, I'll bring snacks for you tomorrow." You added quietly when the professor glanced your way after shushing Seokmin and his friend.

"Deal." You heard him whisper back after a minute and his notebook slid into your vision.

=====

A few days later, you went to class early so that you could finish up a small assignment to prepare for the lesson. Once again, nothing out of the ordinary.

You sat in your usual spot — not too far in the back, but also not too close to the front. Just enough for you to see the board and sneakily hold conversations without really being noticed. 

There weren’t any assigned seats, but by now, it was a convention that everyone sat in the same spot every day. The spot beside yours was always saved for Seungkwan, and the spot beside his was saved for that one kid who only showed up once a month.

You were finishing up the last few pages when a loud “HELLO” echoed in the hall and you whipped your head towards the doorway.

It was that boy — Seokmin — dressed in a soft yellow hoodie, hair slightly ruffled as if he hadn’t bothered to fix it after waking up. Around his neck was the red knitted scarf he always wore the moment the weather grew cold. (Though you swore you've seen him wear it in the middle of the sweltering summer). He smiled widely, waving to the half-empty hall and then to the professor who simply chuckled at his entrance. That smile stayed on his face the entire time he made his way to his seat. 

From then on, you began to understand why people called him a happy virus.

The next day, you found yourself going to class early again, this time, because you honestly didn’t have anything better to do. Besides, arriving at a good time always made you comfortable. The moment the clock struck 8:46, the same boy appeared.

"HELLO!~"

This time, it was sung out in a (very beautiful) falsetto, and you wondered how it was even possible for him to be this exuberant so early in the morning. Waking up was always a struggle on your part.

Just as quickly as the show started, the boy shut himself up after receiving a few tired "hellos" from his classmates and took a seat.

The day went by accordingly.

Since you were little, you've always been told that something needs to be repeated at least three times for it to be considered a pattern. So you decided to go to class early just one more time. You told yourself it's so that you could see you were missing out on things. In case coming to class just in time was a bad habit. A lousy excuse, really.

You knew that you just wanted to see Seokmin again.

Sure enough — it was a Thursday that day — he came in, this time in a navy blue cardigan, but still with the same red scarf. The "hello" today was a little more subdued and based on the package he had in his hands, you guessed he had stayed up all night practicing his lines. When his greeting was met with unusual silence you looked around to see that everyone was far more focused on the upcoming test than the boy at the door. So you mustered up the courage to be the one greeting him that day and he immediately perked up, sending you an appreciative smile. His eyes remained brighter as he walked over to his seat.

You decided to come to class early every day after that.

=====

As the seasons changed, so did your classes, and you were more than happy to realize that you and Seokmin shared not just one, but two classes this semester.

Bouncing on your toes a little bit, you silently willed for the people in front of you to hurry the heck up. The narrow stairwell did no good for the congestion of students trying to get by. 

You glanced at your phone again to see that class was starting in just 3 minutes and grimaced at your predicament. You knew your professor loved starting lectures right on the clock, so you were already cutting it pretty close when you agreed to help someone with their spilled drinks before you got here. But now... did these students really have to carry their gigantic project up the stairs?

You had hoped that maybe they would step aside and let you scurry your way up to the second floor — that was literally all you needed for them. However, they seemed to be far too engrossed with the fact that one of the components was coming apart in the stuffy stairwell and you let out a sigh, backing out the door.

If they won't take the elevator then you supposed you will instead.

Thankfully, the usually crowded elevator was fairly empty, and you managed to score one all to yourself. That was a win for you if only everything else had gone as smoothly as that. Your day had only started and circumstances have suggested that it wasn't going to be the best ones out there.

Perhaps, it was also partly your fault for blasting music through your headphones in the morning. That caused you to get a little lost in your thoughts on the way here, it also caused you to bump into a few unsuspecting people. Or perhaps, it was because you decided that it was a good idea to check your phone after receiving a text to hurry to class when the elevator door was closing.

But you like to think that it was maybe also his fault for stuffing his face with a bagel at 8 am in the morning, rendering him unable to clearly shout out at you to keep the elevator door open.

You looked up at the strangled noise and saw Seokmin barrelling towards you, his one free hand wildly waving at you to do something about the situation. You, just as frantic as the boy was, rushed to smash the "open" button to no avail as the door continued to close with every step he took.

He made it, much to your relief, tumbling into the lift and almost spilling his coffee onto you (another drink disaster would've ruined your day completely). You didn't have much time to congratulate him for his feat, however, because you both watched in horror as his iconic knitted red scarf — caught in between the doors of the elevator — began to tear and unravel itself. 

Seokmin frantically lifted the scarf over his head and tried to pull it out of the elevator's grip while you reached down and grabbed it in an attempt to help. But all efforts were futile when the last stitch came apart, and he was left with only a fraction of what used to be his favourite red scarf. Your stomach twisted itself when you looked up and saw the distress in his eyes, his teeth biting down on his lip as if he was contemplating the best way to curse you out.

He was an actor though, and you could tell he was putting up a facade to hide how upset he actually was. His eyes wavered as he stared at the scarf, now reduced to a mess of yarn and his lips tugged into a weary smile.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to close the door on you it was an accident." You blurted out.

Seokmin didn't answer, but the elevator door dinged open as your phone buzzed with its second alarm of the day. Class was starting.

Your hand slipped into your pocket to turn off the alarm and you looked back at Seokmin, eyes begging for forgiveness. "Look, let's meet up again sometime later so I can make it up to you, okay? I promise that I'll fix this."

And with that, you sprinted away from the scene, leaving the poor boy alone with his destroyed scarf.

=====

"Let me get this straight — the elevator door closed too soon and Seokmin's scarf got caught and tore apart and now you're worried that he hates you 'cause you think the scarf is really important to him?"

You nodded.

Seungkwan sighed and rubbed his forehead, trying to return to his notes. "This reads like a fanfic someone wrote at 5 am."

"It what." You blinked and he dismissed the question.

"Nothing, nothing. Did you get his number? Any way to contact him?"

You gave him a sheepish look. "I forgot to ask, I kinda ran away."

"You ran away?"

"It was an accident okay! I was nervous. But we have a lecture with him tomorrow morning, right? I could just talk to him then."

Seungkwan raised an eyebrow. "And you'll be able to muster up the courage by tomorrow? It took you 10 minutes to even tell me what happened, what do you plan to do?"

You bit your lip and stared at the forgotten work on your laptop. "Good question, I have no idea how to make up for it. Scrap talking to him tomorrow."

You both settled into silence as Seungkwan continued on with his notes and you leaned back in your chair. All sorts of ideas ran through your mind, but not of them seemed like the right one.

Then it hit you.

"That's it!" You gasp and sat straight up again, accidentally startling Seungkwan who whined about his smudged diagram. "I'll buy him another scarf, the exact same one."

"That's a good idea." He hummed. "But how will you know which one to buy?"

"I was hoping you'd have his socials? We could do some classic investigating." You suggested.

Seungkwan's eyes lit up at that and he reached over to grab his phone. "If Soonyoung's friends with him, then they're probably following each other so... Ah! There he is. A childish username, as expected."

He gave his phone to you and you scrolled through Seokmin's profile, many were pictures of food or his friends, but you stopped at one photo that caught your eye. It was of him at a park, trying to act casual for a photo (as anyone would), but wrapped around his neck was the famous red scarf.

"Perfect." You muttered to yourself. Now all you had to do was buy that scarf and hope that it comes quickly.

Or else things would become terribly awkward.

=====

Buying that scarf turned out to be much more difficult than you thought it would be.

No matter how deep you searched on the internet or how many times you looked at the photo of his precious scarf, there was no trace of the exact same copy.

"Don't tell me it was handmade." You groaned and got up from your seat to flop onto your bed instead. You stared at the ceiling for a while, long enough for your laptop to fall asleep. 

"Maybe it's a high-end brand?" You speculated quietly to yourself and rolled onto your side to stare at the wall instead.

"No... This guy eats ramen every other day in the caf, there's no way he can afford that."

You rolled onto your back once more and pouted at absolutely no one.

Why did you have to get into this situation with someone you hardly knew?

=====

The next day you went to class at the normal time to avoid having to see Seokmin when he inevitably greets the class. However, when you took your seat and discreetly glanced at his spot, it was empty. Minus Soonyoung's bag that sat there instead.

You chewed on your lip for a while, wondering if his unusual absence had anything to do with yesterday.

"Good morning!"

Your shoulders relaxed at the familiar voice and you almost let yourself send him a smile when you remembered that you were supposed to be avoiding him. You immediately stiffened and stared at your table. Seokmin didn't look your way for the entirety of the lecture, which you were almost grateful for, but it also left a sinking feeling in your stomach.

On the way out, he did end up glancing at you and you immediately turned to Seungkwan to strike up a meaningless conversation.

"Make it seem like we're busy with something, he's looking my way."

Seungkwan rolled his eyes. "I talked to Soonyoung yesterday and he brought up what happened 'cause apparently he thought it was really funny. He said Seokmin wasn't mad but didn't really know what he's supposed to be doing either."

You nodded, pretending like you were listening to him and he continued on.

"Seokmin's a kind soul, you know. I doubt he's ever been angry at anyone before."

"That just makes me feel even worse though," You whined and watched Seokmin leave the room with another classmate by his side. "And I told him that we'd meet up again but I'm not ready at all. What's he gonna think about that?"

"Then you could go up to him and say that you're still sticking to your promise, but you still need time to think about what to do. Maybe he'll tell you what he wants then." Your friend suggested, poking at your work to tell you to start cleaning up.

"I think I'm going to avoid him until I'm fully prepared. So I don't mess this up." You decided, completely ignoring Seungkwan's words and the boy sighed.

"What did I do to have such dense friends?"

=====

The week before exams was spent cramming some last-minute studying with your friends in the community library. 

It's been a while since you last spoke to Seokmin. 

Which translates to "you haven't spoken to Seokmin since the incident."

You ignored those worries and buried yourself in work instead. Using yet another excuse to get out of the very problem you should probably be prioritizing.

Besides, focusing on Minghao and Jun, who were bickering over who left the empty juice carton in the mini-fridge seemed far more interesting. You giggled when Minghao practically brought out photo evidence to defend his point and Jun spluttered out a shocked response after being called out. As their conversation grew louder and louder, you quickly scanned the library, searching for the librarian to make sure you weren't going to be chewed out for being noisy.

You stopped when you spotted Seokmin sitting next to Chan, who ran the dance club you've always admired. His nose was buried in a book. It was only for a brief moment — perhaps a second or two — but you stared at him from afar, taking in his sharp features and gentle smile.

When he felt your gaze on him and locked eyes with you, you immediately looked away, trying to not let him know that you saw him.

"I gotta go." You muttered and packed up your stuff, leaving behind a bewildered Minghao and even more bewildered Jun (who was still trying to recover from the previous attack).

All those days preparing yourself crumbled right in front of you. This wasn't supposed to be happening, this wasn't moving according to the plan you promised you'd stick to.

He wasn't supposed to beat you to it.

"Y/n!"

You carried on, pretending to have not heard him and prayed that he would just give up. He was Lee Seokmin though, so of course, he didn't stop.

"Y/N!" He shouted a little louder this time and you could hear his footsteps getting closer and closer, just like on that fateful day at the elevator. You took a deep breath and braced yourself for the confrontation.

"Hey, Seokmin."

To your surprise, he gave you a big smile. "Hey! 'Was worried I wouldn't be able to catch you just now. You were walking so quickly, where are you headed?"

"Oh..." Away from you. You thought to yourself, but said something else, trying to play it cool. "Nowhere in particular, just on a walk. Needed some fresh air after spending so much time in the library. It’s always stuffy when everyone’s cramming for exams." You rambled on.

"Can I join you?"

"Sure." You lied with a small smile.

You walked in silence for a while, with you leading the way, cheeks heating up with every second that passed.

"You've been avoiding me haven't you?" He finally spoke up.

The tips of your ears burned. "I wasn't trying to."

"If it's about what happened in the elevator, you don't have to worry about it." He prompted lightly and you stopped walking.

"Well, I am worrying about it." You admitted. "Because not only was that your first impression of me, but I know that scarf meant a lot to you and it was such a stupid way for it to get destroyed."

You took a deep breath and continued before he could think of an answer. "I'm trying to buy you another scarf, but I've been having some trouble finding it anywhere..." You admitted.

"Ah," Seokmin chuckled. "My grandmother made that scarf so I doubt you'd be able to find it online."

"It was from your grandmother?" You rubbed your face, thinking about all the hours spent examining the photo and struggling to find the perfect match. "I'm so sorry, that's even worse than it just being your favourite."

He shrugged. "Nah, it's fine, I got over it after that day."

You couldn't hide the look of surprise when he said that.

"To be honest, she's been trying to get me to ditch that scarf because I wore it too much. It's a good excuse to get a new one now!" He finished happily and you suddenly felt less tense.

"Your grandmother makes nice scarves, though. I never knew that there was a little design on it until, well, until it ripped. But it was beautiful! Please give her my compliments."

Seokmin let out a shy laugh. "Ah, you're talking about the little bunnies and sunflowers stitched onto it, right? I've always worn the scarf inside out because I don't know what people will think when they see it."

"What?!" You blurted out, incredulous. "They're really cute! If anyone were to hate on the cute bunnies then they're going to have a word with me." You joked, pretending to get into a fighting stance. "I would definitely wear that scarf proudly, but what makes you comfortable, of course."

"Interesting. Hearing that does make me a little for confident." He hummed. The conversation stilled for a brief second before he spoke up again. "What are your plans for the break?"

You blinked at the sudden change of topic. "Uhm, nothing much, probably just heading back to spend time with family."

"Cool! My plans are the same. How about you meet me..." He walked over to a nearby bench and planted his feet firmly on the ground. "Exactly here on the day, we get back. Does that sound okay?"

"Why?" You asked, but he was already backing away. You stepped forward, insisting on an answer but he refused to give you one and you could only nod your head in agreement.

"I'll see you then... I guess..." You called out weakly, speaking to practically no one because the boy was already on his way elsewhere.

And just like that, your conversation with Lee Seokmin ended.

====

 Winter break soon arrived and left as quickly as it came.

You arrived exactly 5 minutes before the meeting time and Seokmin arrived exactly 5 minutes after the meeting time.

"Y/n!"

You waved when you heard the familiar voice and the two of you shared a warm smile despite the cold weather.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," He continued. "How have you been!"

"I've been alright, how about you?"

He replied with his own "same old, same old" and you sent him a curious look when the small talk died down. "So why did you ask to meet up today?"

"Yes! About that." His hand drifted towards his neck and he didn't even have to speak for you to piece two and two together.

Wrapped around his neck was a new scarf, the same style as the old one, but this time, it was a soft shade of pink. Embroidered along the front was a small line of bunnies and flowers, perfect for the spring that was soon to come.

You brightened at the sight and let out a small gasp. "You got a new one! Nice!"

"Yep! And," Seokmin placed something warm in your hands and you realized he's been carrying it with him this entire time. "This is for you."

You stared at the scarf in your hands. It was a lovely shade of blue. "Wh— why do I get a scarf too?"

He laughed and fidgeted with his sleeves. "You spoke so fondly of my old one, I thought you'd appreciate having one for yourself so I asked my grandmother to make an extra one."

"That makes me feel even worse!" You cried out, guilty for not only ruining his old scarf but also inadvertently making him do more work to gift you something you didn't think you deserved.

"No, please don't feel bad!" He immediately replied, eyes wide to get his message across. "She was happy to make another and honestly, I just wanted to clear things up so that we don't start off on the wrong foot, you know?"

"Thank you." You pouted, still feeling a little bad, but you wrapped the scarf around your neck nevertheless. Seokmin smiled as he watched you and you grabbed the end of the scarf to admire the handiwork.

"They have the same pattern. We're matching with each other now." You quietly noted and suddenly the atmosphere between you two grew warmer.

"I guess we are! This makes us scarf buddies now, I guess." Seokmin smiled sheepishly. "We are bound by an unfortunate incident, but I hope to turn it into something positive. We can be friends, right?"

"I should be the one asking you that, idiot." You replied with a grin. The grip you had on the scarf got a little bit tighter. "Of course we can be friends, I would love to be your friend."

The smile on his face reminded you of when you first saw him.

Suddenly, your phone went off in your pocket, signalling that it was a good time to start heading to class. So much for an easy transition back into the school year.

"I should probably get going now," You started at the same time Seokmin spoke up.

"I promised I would meet up with—"

You both paused mid-sentence before bursting out in laughter at the coincidence.

"We have a lecture together tomorrow, right?" He asked excitedly and you nodded. "We can continue our conversation later then."

You laughed. "I'll see you tomorrow, scarf buddy."

=====

The next day went by accordingly, starting with a familiar “HELLO!~” from the boy who loved to eat bagels at 8 in the morning and wear scarves in any kind of weather.

The only difference is that this time, he took the seat to your right instead of one at the opposite end of the hall. He greeted you with a smile and you happily started up a lively conversation before class started. Decorating both your outfits were your matching scarves, flowers and rabbits on the outside for the world to see.

This way, everyone could know that you guys were scarf buddies.

[e-milieeee]

tongue-tied (hearts entwined)—Marichat

Summary: Chat Noir has the annoying habit of sticking his tongue out whenever he's concentrating. Marinette hates that she finds it (and him) ridiculously cute.

Now all she has to do is get through the denial.

Notes: For @emsylcatac! Happy birthday, even if I’m a bit late. I know you’re a Ladynoir stan but... it’s Marichat May+Chat blepping :D 

(The last scene is also inspired by this gorgeous piece of art by @australet789! I couldn’t resist sneaking it in lol) 

Or click here to read on AO3! 

tongue-tied (hearts entwined) 

The first time Marinette notices the habit, she brushes it off.

Chat Noir sits on the balcony with her as he attempts to disentangle a ball of yarn from his body. He had claimed that no, he hadn’t in fact been chasing it and it was most definitely not his fault (meaning that it most likely was).

Now, he is wrapped like a Christmas present in neon yellow string. Marinette refuses to help him, so Chat yanks and pulls and stretches the yarn with utmost focus—all with his tongue poking out of his mouth.

Marinette watches him. He doesn’t even seem to notice her presence and only continues in his concentration. His tongue does not return to its rightful place (out of sight, out of mind)—it continues to stick out in the most obnoxiously adorable way ever and Marinette is almost tempted to tell him to shove it back in so she can stop finding him cute.

Before she can do so, Chat Noir lets out a groan. His tongue swipes over his lips and disappears, to Marinette’s relief (and disappointment). “Cataclysm,” he grumbles under his breath.

With that, he cataclysms the yarn to free himself. It falls to black dust all around him like ashes.

“What?” Chat asks when he sees her staring. “It was efficient. Don’t look at me like that.”

Marinette blinks and shakes her head. Had she found him cute just a moment ago? No, she decides. Obnoxious, maybe, but definitely not cute.

(No way.)

***

It happens a couple more times before Marinette realizes that it’s become a problem.

They’re playing video games in her room, an odd little routine they’ve developed. Chat Noir is surprisingly enthusiastic about beating her in Ultimate Mecha Strike III, which, so far, he has not been able to do.

Marinette makes the mistake of sneaking a glance at him in the middle of a match. He’s holding the controller, staring at the screen with the same intensity he often directs at akumas, and, best—no, worst of all, his tongue is sticking out of his mouth again.

She stares at him for a little too long. A little too long turns to really, really too long, because Marinette is only snapped out of her thoughts when Chat Noir throws his hands up with a triumphant whoop. “I won!” he crows at her, and Marinette turns to look at the screen in dismay.

Sure enough, he had finally bested her. The stats flash across the screen—he’d only won by a margin, but he had won nonetheless, breaking her streak of eighteen wins and zero defeats. Now, a red 1 flashes across the screen under her losses, and Marinette groans.

“No fair,” she complains. “I was distracted for a second. You wouldn’t have won if I weren’t.”

“Distracted?” Chat frowns at her. “Distracted by what?”

Your tongue does not suffice as an answer. Not unless she wants to die of embarrassment and shame. As Marinette fumbles for an acceptable reply, Chat sets down his controller and leans forward. “Admit it,” he grins, infuriously smug. “I won fair and square.”

Marinette pushes his nose away from her. Her face is burning. “I’m going to kick your ass harder next time, and you’re going to regret this.”

His grin widens. “I’d like to see you try.”

(He’s not cute. Just annoying.)

***

Chat comes by to bake when Marinette’s parents are out of town one day. He asks her to teach him how to make macarons, but it’s a far too advanced skill for his limited scope. So instead, they come to an agreement to make Chinese pineapple buns. Now, standing shoulder to shoulder, Marinette teaches him to knead dough.

He’s all wide eyes and concentration, tongue peeking out from the corner of his mouth as he follows her movements. Marinette forgets about rolling her own dough in favor of watching him. His ears are sticking up straight on top of his head.

He’s so annoyingly cute.

“Okay!” Chat suddenly announces. “Is this good enough—Marinette? Is there something on my face?”

“Huh?” she looks at him, looks at the dough, looks at her own unfinished one, and promptly feels her face flush. Then, against all better judgement, Marinette blurts, “Why do you always stick your tongue out like that?”

“Like what?” Chat tilts his head slightly then sticks his tongue straight out. “Likthe thith?”

“No!” Marinette practically yelps, then throws her hands up. “Your dough isn’t ready! Stop slacking!”

He purposefully keeps his tongue out the whole time until Marinette is shaking from laughter.

(Maybe he’s cute. Slightly.)

***

“It’s called blepping,” Chat Noir tells her.

“What?” Marinette looks up from her project. “What’s called what?”

“Apparently cats do it too,” he continues. “Stick their tongue out, that is.”

“Well,” Marinette tells him, nearly tripping over her words. “You’re not actually a cat.”

“I don’t appreciate you telling me what I can be and what I can’t be,” Chat sniffs back. “Besides, it’s not a problem for anyone, so I don’t see why I can’t embrace my cat instincts.”

“Cat instincts,” she parrots under her breath. “Yeah, right.”

“Wait. You’re not bothered by it, right, Mari?”

Marinette snorts. “Who, me? Why would I be bothered?”

Chat shrugs. “See? Then it’s whatever.”

It’s not whatever, but Marinette isn’t going to let him know that. A moment later, when he’s focusing again, she catches another glimpse of the pink tip of his tongue.

Why does he have to be so cute?

(She is in deep, deep trouble.)

***

Chat’s terrible at tying his laces.

It would’ve been funny—from the way his eyebrows are scrunched, ears twitching as he fumbles uselessly with the string—if it weren’t for the fact that all of that was accompanied by the tongue poking out over his top lip. Marinette knows she should stop staring, because then she can stop finding him cute. But she keeps staring, like a whole idiot.

To her mortification, Chat looks up at her and grins when she catches her turning away hurriedly. “Is my face that great to stare at?” he asks.

“What?” Marinette shrieks. “No! I’m looking at you tie your laces. Do you seriously not know how to do them up?”

Chat pouts. “It’s hard to do with claws,” he grumbles, wiggling his fingers. Then he sticks his leg out. “You can do it for me.”

Marinette does it, only to have an excuse to duck her face so he can’t see how red her cheeks are.

It’s one of their monthly outings that Chat Noir claims essential to their friendship. He had launched into an indignant tirade when Marinette suggested they could skate at a rink, insisting that they skate in nature.

Now, at the small pond with hints of snow beginning to fall, Marinette has to admit that he made the right call. The wind nips at her nose with the slightest hints of cold, but not too cold that it’s uncomfortably so. Bundled in her own handcrafted scarf, mittens and toque, the worst of the chill is kept out. Even Chat is wearing an overcoat over his suit.

They’re far from the city; in fact, they’re far from Paris itself. The horse Miraculous is tucked safely away in one of Chat’s pockets (which, ironically, he had borrowed from Ladybug). Here, away from the buzzing and business of the city, her thoughts feel clearer than they have been in a long, long time. The snow, fresh and still falling, offers a muted sort of quiet that leaves her room to think and ponder without interruptions.

(Too bad all her thoughts just linger on Chat.)

((Or maybe that’s a good thing.))

Marinette double knots Chat’s laces. “There,” she announces, then adds, “you big baby.”

“It’s the claws’ fault!” he exclaims again. “Race you to the pond?”

Before Marinette can react, Chat grabs the hem of her toque and pulls it down over her eyes. Then, with a boyish laugh, she hears him run off, crunch, crunch, crunching over fresh snow.

Marinette scrambles to her feet, cursing him under her breath as she snatches her mittens and brushes the wool out of her face. Chat is already halfway to the pond, and with one last desperate attempt to win, she chucks her mittens at him.

They miss by a margin, landing in the snow and inciting more laughter.

“You’re a cheat!” she shrieks when Chat reaches the ice. “I hope you know that!”

“Sore loser!” he yells from the ice, already twirling easily on his skates. “You don’t see me complaining every time you win in Ultimate Mecha Strike!”

Marinette retrieves her mittens from the ground and brushes the snow from them. “You complain every single time,” she grinds out, joining him on the ice. The moment her skates touch the pond, Chat’s already darting away from her with easy grace. He glides, spins, then starts skating backwards so the smug grin is fully displayed.

“Come get me!” Chat Noir calls, sticking his tongue out. His hands are tucked behind his back, and he loops each glide, one foot behind the other with ridiculous ease. Show off.

“If you’re going to keep sticking your tongue out, then I dare you to lick that,” Marinette yells at him, pointing at the lamp pole that stands a couple of paces from them. “Bet you won’t.”

Never one to back down from a challenge, he raises an eyebrow. “What do I get if I do?”

“I’ll bake you a batch of whatever you want.”

“Oh, you’re on. Also, if a batch of cookies is usually twelve cookies, do you think I could get a batch of twelve cakes—”

“I’m taking back the bet,” Marinette mock-threatens.

“Okay, okay! I want those mooncakes we had two weeks ago! Three of them.”

She skates up to Chat as he makes his way to the pole. He tromps off the ice, skates sinking into the fresh snow and leaving deep imprints, before sidling up to the pole.

Frost spirals in small flowery patterns over the metal. Marinette grins when she sees Chat hesitate.

“Well?” she asks. “Chickening out now?”

“Never,” he grins. Then, with one swift movement, he licks the metal pole and pulls back.

Or tries to.

Chat lets out a muffled cry of distress and pain when the tip of his tongue sticks to the metal. Immediately, his hands go to wrap around the pole, pulling himself close enough until the hurt smooths off his face, soon replaced by panic. “Marinethe!” he yelps.

Marinette stares at him, her body frozen in a mixture of shock and amusement. Then the shock gives way to pure delight, and she bursts out laughing.

Chat takes it in stride. “Ha, ha,” he grumbles as she doubles over. He looks so stupid, with his tongue sticking out, gloved hands gripping the pole as his eyebrows scrunch. “Vthery thunny, Marinethe. Can you helpth?”

“You should see yourself,” Marinette manages throughout her giggles. “Oh my God, Chat, you really deserve this for not having better judgement.”

He lets out a long suffering groan. “Geth thith offth!”

“This is what people sounded like in Shakespearan times,” she continues.

Chat side-eyes her, unable to move his head any more than a bare centimeter. “Justh helpth!”

“Ooh, I got a good one. Cat got your tongue?”

He groans. “Is thith whath ith thakes for you tho maketh a joke?”

Marinette snaps a quick picture before taking pity on him. “Wait here,” she tells him. “I packed us hot tea. A little bit will be enough to unstick your tongue, probably.”

She skates back to where their bags lay on the bench and retrieves the thermos. Half a minute late, Marinette is pouring the steaming liquid into the cap, cooling it just enough, before raising it over Chat’s tongue. “Okay,” she tells him. “Get ready.”

For all his superhero experience and near-death scrapes, he actually looks scared of the tea. “Ith won’th burn me?”

“No,” Marinette reassures and raises the cup to her lips to take a sip. “See? Warm, not hot.”

Chat closes his eyes. Very carefully, Marinette pours a small stream steadily onto where Chat’s tongue has stuck to the metal pull. “Try to move away?” she suggests.

He wiggles his shoulders.

“I mean your face,” Marinette tells him drily. “Don’t be a scaredy cat.”

He scrunches his nose, then very slowly, moves his head back.

The tea does its job, because Chat unsticks himself from the metal easily. His eyes widen as if he can’t believe his luck, then lifts a cautious hand to his mouth and touches the tip of his tongue. “Ow,” he hisses. “It feels like I’ve burned my taste buds off.”

“You froze your taste buds off, but yes.” Marinette screws the lid back onto the thermos. “Lesson learned?”

“You dared me. You wanted this to happen, huh?”

She shrugs. “Can’t say I wasn’t expecting it.”

A look of playful betrayal sweeps over Chat’s face, and he lunges for her. Marinette, expecting it, scrambles out of the way just in time for him to go barrelling into a pile of snow.

By the time Chat Noir has sat up, snow tucked between his ears and all over his hair like cotton, she is already darting across the ice far, far away from him. Chat shakes the flakes from his head and slips onto the ice in one fluent movement as well.

Marinette grins as he comes skating after her. She’s not quite as confident on her skates without her transformation, but lessons and practice have done it’s good because she’s nearly as good as Chat is on the ice. For a good fifteen seconds she evades his messy attempts to catch her, but her disadvantage without her suit comes creeping up little by little until Chat finally manages to wrap a hand around her wrist.

“Gotcha,” he grins.

Then, with a little shove, Marinette crashes into the bank.

It doesn’t hurt, per say, because it’s a snowdrift he’s sent her into, but the cold is still a shock. For a moment, she stares at Chat, who’s laughing like it’s the funniest thing in the world, before Marinette comes back to her senses and kicks a her leg at the blade of his skates.

Even his enhanced senses don’t help him from tumbling right into the pile of snow next to her.

One look at each other later, they’re both laughing.

(It’s nice; the time together, the easiness and lack of…everything else. It’s nice, his smile. His eyes.)

((And it’s then that Marinette realizes that she’s in deep, deep waters with no sight of the shore.))

***

They sit together on the bench, steaming tea between them, as Marinette shakes the last of the snow from her scarf and toque.

The sun is beginning to set, and the coldness has begun to creep into her bones, leaking through her overcoat. Every exhale sends little ghosts into the air, and even with the warm tea, Marinette is beginning to shiver.

Still, they’d arranged to watch the sunset, which means that she’s going to stay even if it means freezing to death.

“Let’s skate more,” Chat says. “You’ll be less cold if you’re moving.”

“I’d be less cold if you didn’t throw me into a pile of snow,” Marinette says between chattering teeth.

He gives her a sheepish look. “You got payback, at least? Come on.”

She looks at the hand extended to her. For a moment, Marinette hesitates, even if the butterflies in her stomach are doing a whole gymnastics routine and her heart’s thump thump thump must’ve quickened to at least twice as fast.

Then she takes Chat’s hand and lets him pull her to her feet.

This time, when she steps onto the ice, he doesn’t let go. Chat Noir’s hands are comfortably warm, tight around hers, and Marinette lets him lead her around the lake in a simple but graceful glide.

They skate until the sky turns from blue to gold, until the clouds dye orange and the world changes color altogether. It’s only then that Chat stops, lifting his head to the sunset. Marinette follows his gaze.

“It’s still cold,” she tells him pointedly, after a minute.

Before she knows it, Marinette is standing against his back, Chat’s arms draped lazily over her shoulders and his chin resting on top of her head. She can’t see him from where she’s standing, but she wonders if he can see her; if he can hear how her heart has jumped right to her throat and notice how the redness in her cheeks can’t be fully credited to the cold.

“Better?” he asks.

Marinette turns back to the sky, where now a brushstroke of red smears across the horizon. “Only slightly,” she replies as nonchalantly as possible.

His body shakes in a silent laugh. And so they stand on the ice, against the cold, until it all melts away to warmth.

(And Marinette thinks that even if she’s in deep waters, this sort of drowning is the best way to go.)

Notes: Fics masterlist here!

[docholligay]

Please rant/rave (well, we already know which one it will be here) about Harry Potter!

GEE I HOPE THIS WAS WORTH WAITING FOR

OH MY GOD. The level of hatred I have for Harry Fucking Goddamn Potter, the culture around Harry Fucking Potter, extending its poisonous tentacles even to the concept of young adult fiction, fantasy, and the United Kingdom as a country and people. 

When you being on this, you may think, “Oh, Doc will explain that Harry Potter sucks because JKR hates trans women” and I will say, oh no, dear reader, that is a fantastic reason to hate the author, and I really suggest we all continue to hate her, and perhaps not purchase the QUEEN’S TONNES of officially licensed merchandise and movies and theme parks that give her stupid little fucking hands all that cash, but no, that is not why I hate the work. There are a number of great works done by terrible people, and the further out the lens of history gets the truer this is. 

I hate Harry Potter because it fucking sucks, and mentally stifled an entire fucking generation. 

“Well, Doc, Harry Potter was really there for me when--” Oh my god I could not fucking care LESS about your personal emotion connection to “orphan wizard boy turns out to be a rich aristocrat yet somehow less woke than Cinderella though” I have personally emotional connections to hot fucking garbage pails of media properties, and if someone came barreling through talking about the myriad ways in which they were horrible, I would be like, “Oh, you aren’t fucking wrong, pal” 

Harry Potter gained wild ass popularity in part due to its magnificent sorting system of Smart, Brave, Evil, and Other, because there’s nothing liberals like more than being able to put everyone’s personality into an easily labeled box, which is why astrology is so popular, or for the intellectuals, Myers-Briggs, which is just as fake but with the veneer of science. This allowed people to give into the tribalism they so desperately liked to pretend they did not possess, and also allow them to write thinkpieces about “The misunderstood Hufflepuff” or “Slytherins aren’t all bad!” or really anything that allows them to write a very real piece about their very imagined oppression for being a part of a totally fake house in a children’s book. Excellent use of your sociology degree, Kai, I thought the addition of phrases like, ‘Content of socialization” and “axes of oppression” really spoke to the struggles you face when wearing a green and silver scarf. 

The other reason it became popular is that it’s essentially wallpaper paste formed into characters. I have read all of the books, and I could not tell you even remotely what Harry’s defining personality traits are other than “protagonist”. In American, at least, a large part of it was the fascination with all things British, with the idea of boarding school and prefects and uniforms that aren’t inexplicably chinos and polo shirts for nine year olds. It allowed children to project onto something so bland that it could be anything. And for children, THAT’S FINE. There is a great deal of bland media made for children, but what I’m speaking to is the fandom, which is largely well over the age of 18. 

Because if we look at the books, are they...actually good? Was it good, or did I experience it as a child? I mean, honestly, on a literary level, are they, or was it just like we all watched Friends, we did it because everyone else was doing it, because I have a distinct memory of a series that involves such greats as “magical geegaws with poorly defined rules that are quickly forgotten despite being able to solve later problems quickly” or “Everyone loves Harry or is a bad guy, or secretly loved Harry all along” 

Oh, speaking of, man, if this was an actual well-written book, wouldn’t it have been wild to have Snape’s whole thing be to teach us that sometimes people do good things for the wrong reasons? Instead of naming your fucking child after the guy who ‘protected you’ because he still wanted to bone your mom? “After all this time” “Always.” 

While all this could have been explained, we have Quidditch added into the mix instead because 20 pages of the goddamn Puppy Bowl is exactly what I was looking for while I was waiting for JK to move the goddamn ball on literally any of these actual magical concepts. 

Harry Potter is a fucking trust fund baby, star quarterback, who grows up to be a cop and marries his high school sweetheart. (Speaking of, why were we shocked that JKR turned out to be a piece of shit when this was and always has been the conclusion of Harry Potter? Why are liberals so fucking into this series that upholds structures like it ain’t no one’s business? It’s a series that opines that those beneath us “Muggles” should be kept in the dark from us) Literally, he finds out he is a wizard and has a dragon-guarded fucking VAULT OF CASH. At 11. It’s such a series for little tyrants, you are special from birth and need do nothing to prove it, here is a letter certifying as such. Oh, not only are you rich and the greatest seeker and have excellent quips, but also your parents were not only rebels, but the best of rebels, and so deeply involved that your parents were killed by the big bad personally, again, because you are so special. His mother’s love literally saves his ass over and over again, because he was SO SPECIAL. He fought Voldemort FROM THE BEGINNING, and WON.  It’s literally the most privilege baby fantasy in the world. 

“But Doooooooooooc, it’s for chiiiiiiiiiiiiiiildren” 

A) Yeah, and you’re 32, you’re making my fucking point about Harry Potter setting an entire generation up for intellectual failure to launch. 

B) Okay, and? I can think of a bunch of kids’ books off the top of my head that in no way require specialness to be given by birth so as to roll out the red carpet for master protagonist. The Hunger Games. Watership Down. A Series of Unfortunate Events. The Chronicles of FUCKING NARNIA, about which I have only a small handful of particularly kind things to say. I’ve never read Percy Jackson, but it’s my understanding that despite his being a literal demigod, the attitudes of the supporting cast are allowed to fall between the extremes of “Appreciates Percy” and “naughty or will learn” Harry does nothing to improve himself even after knowing that he is HUNTED BY THE BIG BAD! “I won’t do this because I don’t like Snape”. So There” which, again, if this series were written with the slightest bit of care or know-how, could be a humbling fucking plot point! BUT NO THAT WOULD BE NAUGHTY. 

But the real reason I hate Harry Potter so much has everything to do with the fandom surrounding it, and how it intellectually stunted a generation of adults. The promise of Harry Potter was that it was supposed to make a new generation of readers, and so the popularity of them was pushed, and so there was discussion of teaching them in schools, but I tell you fucking what, I know a whole lot more folks who grew up reading Harry Potter that never advanced beyond reading YA, or even just rereading the entire series every year and that’s pretty much them done and dusted. 

In the attempt to recapture whatever it was about Harry Potter that attracted children (A lot of it was your peers doing it. I read them all as they came out, and it was literally the equivalent of watching the game so you could talk at the water cooler. That was never going to be recaptured) people, who by this time were likely in their teens, kept getting recommended stuff at the same and same level. No one ever felt pushed to read things that are challenging, to read things that have some of the concepts or themes of Harry Potter but maybe complicate. I know FAR more adults who read adult books that aren’t into Harry Potter, even if they were as children, than the reverse. 

But Doc, why is reading only books meant for 14 year olds a problem??? I mean I suppose I can’t convince you that comfort is not the job of literature or of life, it is the job of an easy chair, because Americans especially are decadent as fuck about being comfy cozy all the time and if anything causes them distress or pain it should be immediately avoided. But Maybe I can convince you that you’re fucking up these books for actual ass children who deserve to have their own writing section without adults bringing their fucking asses into it. They deserve their own spaces. There’s a number of YA editors who have talked about the difficult space YA now occupies because since Potter’s blowup, it’s no longer a niche category, but basically “adult easy reads” and so they have been buying books that are more about the tastes of adult buyers than of literal 14 year olds. 

Is that not...sad? To anyone else? Honestly, and this is not part of the essay because it’s a broader reaching problem, but CHILDREN’S MEDIA IS NOT FOR US. CHILDREN’S MEDIA IS NOT FOR US. CHILDREN’S MEDIA IS FOR FUCKING CHILDREN. The fucking 40-23 set really needs to get their shit together and grow up a little bit and engage in some fucking adult media, and maybe, if we support what we’re actually looking for FOR ADULTS, it will come to us. No one is saying you can’t read Harry Potter or watch some Cartoon Network show, but like, search your heart and come the fuck on. Engage in something more complex. If not for yourselves, for the kids getting shoved into simplified adult stories. It should not be about us. 

ANYWAY, my larger point is that it was Harry Potter, a badly written series about a magical boy who was chosen and magic and also rich and also a favorite of the headmaster and also more clever than most adults and also spoke the same magical snake language as the big bad and was also star quarterback, but at least there was a system in which you could buy a scarf in block colors and feel like you belonged to a team. 

(But not a sports team! lol handegg! I’m cool I don’t get into sports! Except Quidditch.) 

[chilligyu]

info: im jaebum/reader, teen+, strangers to lovers au genre: soft angst, romance | word ct: 5.1k warnings: suggestive themes summary: for years, jaebum tried to forget the woman who broke his heart. little did he know that she wasn’t so easily forgotten, and that her face would haunt him at every turn. note: so I started this three years ago after listening to got7′s face for the first time and I’ve been editing it and forgetting it ever since. lol maybe someone will enjoy it

“Jaebum, I’m sorry.”

Okay.

“I really am.”

Okay.

“Please understand—”

Okay.

“Jae? Don’t just stand there.”

Okay.

“Please—please say something!”

Like what?

Jaebum didn’t know what she expected him to say, not after that. After she ripped out his heart.

“I don’t love you anymore, Jaebum. I’m sorry.”

She just stood there in the doorway, bag in hand, waiting for his response with tears in her eyes. He knew she was trying to stay strong, he could see her lip trembling as she held it between her teeth. How long would she wait there? How long would she bat her eyelashes at him innocently waiting for him to make it all okay? What did she even want from him? Forgiveness? Reassurance? Did she think that somehow an apology would make their breakup hurt any less?

“Goodbye, Seohyun.” He forced out through clenched teeth. “Thanks for everything.”

“Wait—Jaebum—!”

Closing the door on both her and their three year relationship, Jaebum couldn’t remember what he did next. He couldn’t remember clawing every photograph off the walls, he couldn’t remember how his fingers stung as they dug into the plaster. He couldn’t recall pulling every plate from their cabinets, he couldn’t recall how his feet bled when he stepped on the broken porcelain. He couldn’t recollect how much he hated the man who stared at him in the mirror, he couldn’t recollect how his fist destroyed the glass and how it finally reflected how he felt inside.

“I don’t love you anymore, Jaebum. I’m sorry.”

That was over a year ago. And it felt like an eternity to him. Looking at himself now, suit neatly pressed, shoes freshly shined, he didn’t see any semblance of the man from that night. After he destroyed everything that reminded him of her, as he saw the pictures of happier times reduced to embers in the fireplace, he made himself a promise. He swore that he would never let anyone ruin him so completely ever again. Steeling his heart and caging it in ice, he wouldn’t even give them the chance.

Never again.

“Jae?” Jinyoung inquired, knuckles rasping against Jaebum’s door. “We’re heading out for drinks, want to come with?”

He didn’t even look up from the reports he was filing. “Can’t. I’m busy.”

Jinyoung crossed his arms. “Shocker. You’re always busy.”

“That comes with being the boss.” Jaebum countered easily.

Rolling his eyes, Jinyoung leaned against the doorframe. “C’mon, Jae, just pretend you’re a regular guy and not an office robot for a couple of hours. Would it hurt to have a little fun?”

“Maybe. Socializing is against my programming.” Jaebum teased in a robot voice. “I cannot acquiesce to your request.”

“Dammit Jae.” Jinyoung sighed in disbelief. “Your humor is wasted in this tiny little room. Go out with us. Free yourself from the confines of this dastardly place. One night with the guys isn’t going to kill you. And if it does, I’ll buy lunch for a week. Scouts honor.”

Jaebum snickered quietly. “Alright, if it gets you to shut up I’ll go out for a couple of hours.”

“And do a couple of shots?” Jinyoung pressed hopefully.

“Don’t push your luck, Jin.” Jaebum chastised him, leering over his glasses. “I’ll have a glass of wine and that’s it.”

“I’ll take it.” Jinyoung shrugged. “We’re leaving in ten minutes. You want to catch a ride with me?”

Pursing his lips, Jaebum shook his head. “I’ve got to turn these in before I go. I’ll meet you there if you text me the address.”

Jinyoung narrowed his eyes at his friend suspiciously. “I swear to God, Jae, if you flake on us I’m going to come back here and kick your sorry ass.”

“Like you could take me.” Jaebum smirked. “Just go, I’ll be there soon. Promise.”

Jinyoung didn’t relent, his head dragging as he headed towards his own office. “I’ve got my eyes on you, Im Jaebum. You’re not going to fool me.”

“I’m not trying to fool you.” Jaebum informed him. “But if you keep bothering me I’m going to magically find a stack of financial statements that need to be filed. And who better to file them than my good buddy Park Jinyoung—”

“See you there!” Jinyoung interrupted, dashing down the hall like his heels were on fire. “I’ll text you!”

Chuckling at the expense of his friend, Jaebum leaned back in his chair and tapped his pen against his leg. He couldn’t remember the last time he went out just to go out. It had been too long since he was desperate for the numbing sensation of alcohol pulsing through his veins to simply function normally. The last time he could remember drinking he couldn’t recall anything that happened after. Not until he woke up in some woman’s bed that he didn’t bother to learn the name of. He wanted to feel bad, or at least some part of him did. Because she wasn’t the first, and she most certainly wouldn’t be the last.

Not tonight. He decided. Not this time.

When his phone lit up, a text message from Jinyoung waiting for him impatiently, Jaebum quickly got to work. As much as he tried to keep his stoic face in front of his friend, he needed to get out of the office. If he had to read another poorly written report littered with inaccuracies and spelling errors, he was going to lose his mind. Jinyoung’s offer could not have come soon enough.

By the time he was done, the sun was already starting to set. Cursing underneath his breath, Jaebum grabbed his coat and bolted out the door. Opting to take the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator, he checked the bus schedule while tugging on his gloves. Jinyoung had already been at the bar much longer than he’d like, meaning that Jaebum wasn’t going to get out of the night unscathed. Lucky for him he was always prepared for such occasions. The bottle of aspirin in his desk drawer and him were about to be fast friends.

“Jae!” Jinyoung screamed through the phone. “Where are you!”

Jaebum groaned loudly as he made it out to the street. “I’m sorry, I’m still at the office. But I’m leaving now, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“You better be!” Jinyoung continued. “Because I’ll—I’ll kick your ass if you’re not!”

“Shut up Jinyoung, you’re drunk.” He muttered, ending the call and stuffing his phone in his pocket.

Wrapping his scarf around his neck, Jaebum walked briskly to the bus station just down the block. Instantly regretting turning down Jinyoung’s offer for a ride when the cold winter air pelted his skin. Opening his eyes even the slightest caused his eyes to water, each step he took sent a chill down his spine, frost nipped at the tips of his ears, he could barely stand it.

As he waited less than patiently, Jaebum found himself watching the people that passed him. An elderly woman wearing a mismatched set of mittens, a small dog in a boorish sweater jogging along beside her. Two school boys fussing over a handheld video game, laughing jovially despite their harsh words. A young couple walking hand in hand, their eyes filled with affection and warmth, leaving Jaebum with a foul taste in his mouth.

“I don’t love you anymore, Jaebum. I’m sorry.”

Lighting a cigarette, he did his best not to think about Seohyun. About how she left him on a night just like this. How each kiss on her eager lips tasted like lies. How her brown eyes hollowed out his very soul. And how each promise she made cut him like knives. Jaebum had been trying to erase her from his life for a whole year. But no matter how much he drank, or how many women he kissed, he could still taste her on his tongue.

Even cigarettes do nothing to mask her taste. He mused, inhaling deeply and savoring the tobacco that filled his lungs.

When the bus pulled up to the curb, Jaebum dropped his unfinished cigarette in the street. Sighing, he tapped his foot impatiently as the doors opened and people spilled out onto the sidewalk. He had completely forgotten how cramped public transport could get during the winter. Another reason why he hated the desolate season. And Jinyoung’s persistent drunken text messages and calls weren’t helping his rapidly souring mood.

“What is it now, Jinyoung?” Jaebum exasperated, getting on the bus and swiping his card.

“Do you know that fish cake shop by the bar?” Jinyoung asked sluggishly. “The one that I really really like?”

Jaebum pinched the bridge of his nose as he found a seat at the back of the bus. “No, I do not. But I take it you want me to stop there?”

“Yeeeesss.” He dragged out. “I’m dying for a good fish cake.”

Sometimes I wonder how we’re friends. “Alright, fine, I’ll get you your stupid fish cake. How far away from the bar is the shop?”

“Not far at all!” Jinyoung exclaimed. “Just down the street a ways, you can’t miss it! Thanks Jae! You’re the best!”

Beep beep beep.

Pocketing his phone, Jaebum did his best not to let the night get away from him. He had to keep reminding himself that all of his problems could easily be solved with the bottle of scotch that was waiting at the bar. Jinyoung owed him, and getting free drinks out of him while he was drunk was an easy task for Jaebum. All of that was worth the annoying errands that his best friend was infamous for sending him on.

There’s a scotch on the rocks waiting for you. He told himself over and over again. Do it for the scotch. Scotch can get you through anything.

“Now approaching, Namdaemun Market. Thank you for choosing Seoul Public Transportation, have a nice day.”

As the bus rolled to a complete stop, Jaebum quickly stood and waited for the doors to open. Shouldering past the new borders, he apologized quietly, thankful to finally be off the cramped bus and back out on the street. Even if it was a bit colder than he remembered. Shivering, he pulled his lapel taught over his face, scanning his surroundings for the fish cake shop he was supposed to visit. What he found instead was a ghost from his past. A ghost with hair as black as the hole she gouged into his chest.

Seohyun? He swallowed nervously, his palms sweating despite the brisk December air. Is it really her? Please—please tell me that I’m seeing things.

It had to be her, he knew it deep down inside. He knew by the way his heart stopped, how his stomach sank, that it couldn’t be anyone else. But—his mind wasn’t so easily convinced. How could it be her? How could Lee Seohyun be standing right in front of him? Just as beautiful as the day she ripped out his heart without a care in the world. Waiting outside an electronics kiosk, a lollipop stick protruding from her perfect cherry red lips and a guitar slung over her shoulder as if—

A guitar? Jaebum questioned. Since when does Seohyun know how to—

Realization dawned on Jaebum almost instantly. His eyes were playing tricks on him, like they had so many times before. It wasn’t Seohyun, it would never be Seohyun. No matter how much a small miniscule part of him still wanted her back in his arms, she never would be his. The woman before him was simply his projection of something he would never have. Underneath his breath, Jaebum cursed himself for being hung up on her after all this time.

Still, his gaze didn’t waver as he watched the Seohyun look alike walk down the street. The resemblance was uncanny, had he been intoxicated he would’ve surely mistaken her for Seohyun. She even walked like her. The way her hips swayed—Jaebum couldn’t bring himself to look away. She was beautiful, breathtaking, mysterious, entrancing, the same dangerous formula that Jaebum became addicted to so easily.

For a brief moment, he couldn’t find the differences between them. From the way her dark hair fell languidly over her shoulders, the way her lips twitched into a hesitant smile, how her eyes glistened with a palpable passion. It was almost as if he was looking at a direct reflection of a memory. One he would’ve preferred to remain lost to time.

I need to get to this fish cake shop. Jaebum reminded himself. More importantly, I need to get the hell out of here.

Gathering his runaway thoughts, he started down the busy street, doing his best to avoid the mysterious woman. She was a reminder that he couldn’t afford to fall back into the hole that Seohyun cast him into. The man that loved Seohyun wasn’t one that Jaebum admired. In fact, he was a man that Jaebum tried time and time again to erase. And, until that exact moment, he thought he was doing a fair job of it.

“Get your fish cakes here! Best around!”

Jaebum’s ears perked up at the shouting vendor, appreciating the distraction more than he cared to admit. Besides, his head was in a complete haze ever since he spotted that woman. He wouldn’t have been able to find the shop on his own even if he ran right into the door. Which he practically did. The control Seohyun still had over him terrified him to no end. And he had only seen a woman who looked like her, it wasn’t even her. He shuttered to imagine what would’ve happened if she was really there. Whispering in his ear, her hands gliding up his body, the curves of her body beneath him—

“Jaebum…”

Squeezing his eyes shut, Jaebum willed her husky voice away. The shivers that travelled down his spine—he had to ignore them. He had to get away from her. Ducking into the shop, he quickly purchased the fish cakes and left without a word to the clerk. He feared his own voice, feared how it would betray him. The only thing that mattered to him was getting to the bar and as far away from her as possible.

Without really paying attention to where he was going, Jaebum shouldered past someone and sent them stumbling backwards. Unconsciously, he reached out to steady them, taking hold of their wrist and pulling them in close to him before realizing who it was. It was her. Her. Her slender wrists were within his grasp, her dark eyes looked up at him in surprise, and coherent thought evaded him.

“Thanks!” She exhaled, running a hand through her hair. “I really should look where I’m going.”

At that close distance she looked even more like Seohyun. Jaebum didn’t think it was physically possible, but the proof was right in front of him. The scent of her perfume filled his senses, taking him back to a time when her fragrance was the only thing between them. He tried to swallow past the lump in his throat, he tried to respond, he tried to say anything that could distract himself from her lips. Her perfectly shaped cherry red lips…

Brushing her hair over her shoulder, she offered him a dangerous look. “Not much of a talker, are you?”

Jaebum never made it to the bar that night.

He woke up the next morning tangled in sheets that weren’t his own. Lying beside him was the woman who unknowingly unravelled every effort he had made to forget about Seohyun. She made him painfully aware that his previous beliefs were nothing more than optimistic delusions. Jaebum hadn’t moved past her, not even in the slightest. He wasn’t sure if he ever would.

As was customary after every one night stand he stumbled into, he quickly pulled his clothes back on and quietly left her apartment without bothering to wake her. He called for a taxi, pointedly ignoring all of the angry texts and numerous voicemails left by Jinyoung as he made his way home. Jaebum wasn’t in the mood to explain himself. Ironically enough, all he wanted to do was drink. He settled for a silent ride through the city that was supposed to save him from himself, but he was beyond saving.

Days passed and he couldn’t shake the memory of Seohyun’s lookalike beneath him. She was a rarity, an anomaly that wandered into his life without any sort of warning. And as easily as she traipsed through his thoughts, she was gone. Frankly that was his own fault, he did it for his own good but it didn’t matter to him. He wanted her, he wanted more, his body ached for her in a way that was all too familiar. He sat at his desk, fists clenched in rage, hating himself for falling back into his old ways. All he wanted was a life without Seohyun, he wasn’t sure it was possible anymore.

At first, he was determined to stay away from her. He willed his thoughts and memories to the back of his mind, trying to get on with his life once more. But it wasn’t so simple. He found himself back on that street corner without realizing how he got there just a few nights later. Diligently looking for the cherry red lips that stained his own and drove him wild.

He would always find his way back to her.

“Did you miss me?”

She came up beside him with a coy smirk, she already knew his answer.

“Still not much of a talker, are you?”

Soon after they would wind up in bed again, as it was slowly becoming their routine. Jaebum had never felt more connected to a complete stranger, someone who could’ve easily gone through life without ever meeting him. He had Seohyun back, in some way. Like a ghost from the past letting him have one last glance at what could’ve been. He could’ve been happy, he was happy. Now he didn’t know what he was. All he knew was her because that was all he wanted to know. And he wanted to know more. 

On the first day he learned her lips, on the second day he learned her name.

On the third day she learned his.

“Jae...” She breathed beneath him, desperate for him as he was for her. “Please…”

He loved how she said his name. It pained him that he couldn’t say hers.

“Jae.” She tested on her tongue. “You called me Seohyun again.”

He watched absentmindedly as her delicate fingers dusted over his skin, offering nothing more than a quiet, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She mused. “I just need to know, someone you’re running from or running to?”

“I don’t love you anymore, Jaebum. I’m sorry.”

“Both.”

She visibly winced at his honesty. “Well, I hope I can help with that a little.”

And she did. Her lips pressed against his jaw as her hand slid down his abdomen, he hissed in response and took her in his arms. She was—magic. The second his mind would be occupied by thoughts of Seohyun she would pull him in with her own hypnotic gaze, letting him forget about the woman that brought them together in the first place. It didn’t last for long, but the reprieve was appreciated nevertheless.

On the fourth day he called her Seohyun again. The fifth day was the same.

On the sixth day he said her name and she smiled.

He lost track of the days after that.

The moment their relationship stopped being casual and became something more wasn’t entirely obvious to Jaebum. One day he simply woke up and instead of hoping to see her again soon he decided that soon wasn’t enough. They started to see each other every single day, some of those days didn’t end up in bed either. Maybe that’s when he noticed that she was more to him than he originally intended. Maybe that’s when he knew he was doomed to be in love with Seohyun for the rest of his life. Forever seeking her out in the woman he had hoped would make him forget.

One morning when she was gathering her things, giving Jaebum the space he had so foolishly convinced himself he needed, he asked her to stay. So she stayed. He couldn’t ever remember things with Seohyun being so simple. Seohyun was a woman that made Jaebum fight for every inch, beg for every moment, he was addicted to her and didn’t realize how quickly she was killing him. While he didn’t want to admit it, the moment she left him was probably the kindest thing she had ever done.

But she was perfect and he still loved her.

He hated himself, as he spent more time with her and could only see Seohyun in her eyes, he hated himself. He had hoped that they would separate, that he would see her for her and not for the woman he hated and loved all at once. Because she was perfect just as Seohyun was, all he had to do was wait for the inevitable. Either he would get fed up with her or she would realize the truth. She would learn that she was a replacement for someone that wasn’t worth replacing. Someone he evidently couldn’t let go.

“You look like you have a lot on your mind.” She whispered, dusting her fingers over his arm. “Do you want to talk about it?”

What hurt him most, was that she loved him. She loved him. Not some version of him that only existed as a ghost in her mind, as a lie she couldn’t give up. She loved him for exactly who he was. A man who looked at her and saw another, who reached for her everyday, who was haunted by a touch that was forever ingrained in his skin. He was disgusted by the man she loved, by himself. But if he ever told her the truth, he knew it would break her heart.

Break her like Seohyun destroyed him.

And then she would be gone.

So he would continue to lie to her, betray her no matter how much his own words tore him up inside. A sensation that was all too familiar, one he knew better than most after knowing Seohyun for as long as he did. Ironically, he was just like her. Selfish to the very end. 

“I’m alright.” He lied easily as always.

Except she wasn’t convinced, not in the slightest. She had never been convinced of his lies, he could tell just by looking at her that she was enduring his facade as much as he was. Pretending to be fooled so they could continue in blissful ignorance. Because she knew his heart better than even he did, a heart that had long since been locked away. Because she loved him despite everything that he was. And everything that he wasn’t.

It was close to their anniversary when he decided that enough was enough. She had introduced him to her friends, her parents, and he had done the same. Their lives had become intertwined to a point that severing their ties could only result in a catastrophic mess. He had to come clean, he had to put his heart at ease and end the nightmare he almost believed was a dream. He had to let Seohyun go, he had to let her go. Once and for all he had to free himself from her grasp and break a heart that belonged to a woman whose only mistake was running into a man in a fish cake shop.

“I don’t love you anymore, Jaebum. I’m sorry.”

His heart ached as he thought about that day, hated how much his own actions would soon imitate that very moment. Looking at someone who loved you with everything that they had and telling them that it was all over. That you never loved them. That everything was a lie. That you were nothing but a monster.

God I need a drink.

So to put a bit of distance between them, to gather his thoughts, he went to the bar that technically started it all. He ordered his usual drink, he pretended to watch a game that didn’t interest him, and he sat in silence as the moments ticked by. Every now and again the bartender would try to strike up a conversation, but after being ignored for the fifth time he finally gave up. Jaebum wasn’t in the mood to pretend to be a decent human being, it was taking every concerted effort he could afford to keep himself from falling apart at the seams.

And despite the fact that he had been sitting at the bar with two fingers of scotch in front of him for nearly an hour, he had yet to take a single sip. He kept swirling it in his hand instead, using it more as a distraction from his rampant thoughts than a means to soothe his agitated nerves. As much as he wanted to get the whole ordeal over with, he couldn’t get drunk. He had been selfish enough in the past year, he had to endure the next few hours sober because she deserved more than what she was given. She deserved more respect than he had ever offered her. And he deserved the misery he was destined for.

Once a couple of hours had passed, he decided it was time to face her. She would be starting dinner soon and he didn’t want her to waste her time. Not when he was going to be effectively kicking her out of his life forever. With a sigh, he put on his jacket to leave and pushed his untouched drink back towards the bartender. Then, a young woman took a seat beside him.

“Why don’t you let me join you for a drink?” She hummed seductively. “You’re looking a little stressed.”

 For fucks sake. “Thanks, but no thanks.” He returned without looking at her. “I’ve got better things to do.”

Apparently she wasn’t giving up so easily. “Is that anyway to talk to a pretty girl like me?”

Glancing at her, he wasn’t impressed. “Sorry, but I have somewhere I need to be. Drink by yourself if you’re so inclined.”

As he stood to leave, she took a firm grasp of his arm. “Jaebum? Are you seriously going to ignore me? Are you really that cruel?”

He rolled his eyes at her continued pathetic attempts. “You even learned my name, wow. How long have you been watching me?”

Turning back to look at her, he realized there was something familiar about her. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. But that didn’t matter to him.

“Seriously, I’m not on the market.” He persisted. “Good day.”

“Jaebum!” She shouted in disbelief. “Do you seriously not recognize me? We dated for three fucking years, I feel like I’m owed more than a cold shoulder. Or are you the complete asshole you’ve always been?”

A chill ran down his spine.

“Don’t just stand there!”

No… it—it can’t be… that voice... 

“Say something!”

Seohyun?

Realization dawned on him, stomach acid rose in his throat. It had to be her, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind after hearing her say that. Those words, nearly those exact words were seared into his soul ages ago. That voice berated him for years. There was no way he would ever mistake that voice for anyone else. But—she didn’t look like the Seohyun he remembered. The mere sight of her didn’t drive him mad, he didn’t have to fight back the urge to throw himself at her feet. She was Seohyun without the best and the worst parts of her.

She wasn’t the woman he loved.

Not anymore.

“Wow…” He exhaled with a smile. “You’ve really changed, haven’t you.”

Which, now that the initial shock had worn off, he realized that she was the exact same. Painfully so. Her nails were freshly manicured, her hair and makeup were set perfectly in place, her clothes were fresh off the runway, she was Seohyun in every sense of the word. Perfectly plucked from time and placed in front of him. She was everything he thought he loved. Before he learned what love really looked like. And god it didn’t look like her.

“And you haven’t changed at all.” She huffed. “Still the rude asshole I dumped forever ago. I can’t believe I doubted myself for a second there, spotting you across the bar made it seem like the good old times. But I really made the right call, didn’t I?”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “You really did. Goodbye, Seohyun. Thanks for everything.”

She scoffed as he left. “Yeah, whatever.”

After that, Jaebum didn’t hesitate. He took off running for the bus stop, desperate to get home to a woman that he had loved for a whole year and just didn’t know it. He had been so sure that the love he felt for her was just a projection, that she only reminded him of Seohyun so that was the only reason he loved her. Never in all his life had he been happier to be wrong.

I love her… He chanted in his head, over and over again. I love her!

Once he got home, he burst through the door and stopped immediately when he saw her standing there. How had he never noticed before? She was beautiful, she was perfect, she was the woman he loved with his whole heart and he was a fool for not knowing sooner. She made him laugh, she made him smile, she made him forget about Seohyun a hundred times and even wiped her from his heart forever. And he was the idiot who thought it was all a lie.

“What’s wrong, Jaebum?” She asked innocently. “Is something on your mind?”

“Yes.” He confirmed easily, approaching her slowly and taking her hands in his. “I’ve done a lot of thinking, a lot of soul searching this past year, trying to make sense of my feelings for you. And I think I finally know what my brain has been telling me since the very beginning.”

There was a nervous glint to her eyes, but she played along. “What would that be?”

“That I love you.” He smiled. “I love you for being you and no one else.”

Those words, those simple words that wouldn’t make any sense to someone else, made her face light up like a fireworks display. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face into his chest, overwhelmed with a feeling he knew all too well. For the first time in four years, Jaebum could breathe. A huge weight had lifted from his shoulders, the ghost of Seohyun was finally gone. He was free.

“I love you too…” She mumbled. “I’ve loved you for so long…”

“I know.” He whispered gently, tilting her chin up and kissing her gently. “And I will thank you everyday for waiting for me.”

[jemej3m]

(mobster/cop au) what did the foxes think Andrews husband would be like before they met Neil? Did they had a bet?

this is…..not what you asked. i went off on a tangent lol, but i aint sorry.

(also i, for some reason, just cannot write good betting scenarios. might be because gambling addictions are p.serious. i know its all in good fun though! so im sorry i couldn’t include it)

*

Getting information about Andrew was like pulling teeth, and this was news to no one. Seeing as Kevin was - probably, maybe, most likely - Andrew’s closest friend at the precinct (other than Renee. And Wymack, possibly), Dan and Matt seemed to look to him after the discovery that Andrew had a husband when they’d all been trapped in that basement. 

“Why would I know anything?” Kevin objected, when they’d approached him. 

“Because Renee won’t give up his secrets and I know you’re as curious as we are,” Matt supplied. 

“Well, I know nothing that y’all don’t already know. Apparently he’s married to a guy. I once overheard him talking on the phone to a Neil. Assuming that Andrew has no social life - which is an easy assumption to make - his husband is Neil.”

“Ooh,” Dan said, wiggling her eyebrows conspiratorially. “Mr Neil Minyard. Anything else?”

Kevin just shrugged. “Nope. Andrew’s a wall. You’ll never get anything more than that.” 

*

Dan crouched down behind the car, breathing heavily. “Fucking hell,” she muttered, as another round of bullets sprayed out. She hated shootouts. At least Matt was safe at the precinct: she’d been doing a patrol with Andrew and Renee when they’d been radioed. 

“Good that it’s a dead area,” Renee insisted, forever a ray of sunshine and goodness. How she and Andrew got along was a conspiracy to be marveled at, but it worked. “We shouldn’t be dealing with any civilian casualties.”

“Hey, coppers!” came a voice. “Fuck off! This ain’t your problem!” More bullets. 

Dan rolled her eyes, then flinched as the car they were all crouched behind was fired at. Andrew grunted, a furrow between his brows. 

“We told you to fuck off - !” the same guy yelled, before he was most definitely shot, making a gurgling noise in lieu of words. 

“Andrew, south east,” Renee called. Andrew got up on his knee and aimed quick: he was one of the sharpest shooters on the squad. Dan heard a female scream “Shit!” as the shooting quietened. 

“Nice shot,” she told the detective. He just grunted. “Right, clear out. Let’s never sign up to patrol this section of town on a Friday night again.” 

“Agreed,” Renee mumbled, holding her gun close. 

It seemed that whoever Andrew had shot got away: a pool of blood without a body remained evident on the path. The other group had abandoned their loud-mouthed friend, who was still writhing on the tar as the ambulance arrived. He’d only been shot in the arm, and it hadn’t hit bone. He’d be fine. 

“Alright,” Dan told her two officers. “How about we sign off?” 

They both grunted in agreement. 

*

It was Tuesday morning, and Andrew’s desk was empty for a second day in a row. Dan folded her arms and stalked towards Wymack’s office to demand that the captain give Minyard a call, but he held up a broad palm as she entered the room.

“Andrew’s cited a family emergency.”

Dan narrowed her eyes. “Sure.”

Wymack simply arched a brow at her. “His husband was shot. If you want to cross-check for me and give him a call, be my guest, Wilds.”

Dan slowly retreated out of the captain’s office. She wasn’t suicidal enough to give Minyard a ring, not under those circumstances. Wymack’s word was definitely good enough. 

She went back to her desk as Matt sidled up beside her, pressing a kiss to her hair. 

“No PDA at work,” she complained. 

“Shift’s over,” Matt pointed out, grinning. She rolled her eyes. “What should we get for dinner?”

“Not sure…” Dan trailed off as she watched Renee packing her desk, checking her watch rapidly and hastily slinging her bag over her shoulder. She pattered over to the bullpen’s kitchen and drew out a casserole dish from the freezer, lifting the foil to check its contents. With the dish held against her hip, she checked the freezer closed and made her way to the elevator. 

“Whatcha got there, Renee?” Matt piped up, helping the dish out of Renee’s hands when she’d dropped her phone. It wasn’t often that Renee got flustered: she hastily picked up the mobile and tucked her hair behind her ears. Dan noticed she was wearing lip gloss. 

“Well, since Neil’s been - sick,” she started. 

“Shot,” Matt supplied. Dan glared at him: he shrugged. “What? I read Captain’s lips.”

Renee snorted, taking the dish back now that she was more organised. “I offered to make dinner, and Andrew prefers punctuality. I just hope that Neil likes it: I’ve never made this quiche before.” she worried, quietly. “Andrew said he hates vegetables but will put up with them when they’re hidden away. And hopefully Allison will eat eggs, and cheese.”

“Allison?” Dan inquired. 

“Neil’s best friend,” Renee said, still distracted as she looked for her car keys. “Oh, heavens, I’m so late.” 

“Go,” Dan insisted. Renee smiled gratefully. “Tell Andrew we say hello.” She nodded and jogged towards the exit.

“And tell Neil to get shot less!” Matt added, unhelpfully. “I won’t keep doing his paperwork!” 

Dan laughed and leaned into her husband’s shoulder. She looked up at him, her chin brushing the crook of his neck. “Do you think Andrew will ever let us meet him?”

“Not sure,” Matt said. “It would probably completely ruin his cred as a stoic asshole. He’s probably a massive sap at heart.”

Dan smiled into the collar of Matt’s shirt. “Never put Andrew Minyard and sap in the same sentence again, babe.” 

Matt just laughed and looped a hand around her waist. 

*

“So,” Matt said, leaning against the edge of Minyard’s table. “How was your week off?”

“Great,” Minyard said flatly. “Go away.”

Matt ignored him and sat in the victim’s chair, leaning his chin on his hand. “You know, I’m pretty sure you and your husband have been married longer than Dan and I have. Do you have any anniversary suggestions?”

“Get a divorce,” Minyard grunted, looking at his report.

Matt grinned. “Don’t be like that. What did you and Neil do last time?”

“Nothing,” Minyard mumbled. Matt noticed his cheeks going red and rose up his eyebrows. Minyard noticed his look and scowled. “It was our anniversary this week and he was bedridden. Quit looking at me like that, Boyd.” 

“A January wedding,” Matt cooed. “Did you take photos in the snow?” 

“I will castrate you.” 

“Cool,” Matt said, airily. “Well, happy anniversary, Andrew. Tell Neil we said hi.”

“I won’t,” Andrew insisted. “Get lost.” 

Matt snorted and did as he was told. He’d intended to say hi to Renee, but she was over at Dan’s desk, so he sauntered over with his thumbs hooked into his pockets. 

“Hey, Renee,” he said, grinning. His fellow detective and his sergeant raised their eyebrows at him. “I’ve been thinking,” 

“You should be working,” his wife reminded him. 

“Andrew just had his anniversary, right? But they couldn’t do anything because Neil’s been bedridden. We should all pitch in for a gift. Maybe a weekend away?”

“That’s a lovely idea, Matt,” Renee said, grinning. 

“How the hell did you get that information out of him?” Dan said, incredulous. 

“I’ll email you some ideas: you know the two of them, best.” Matt rubbed his hands together. 

“Preferably not New York, not somewhere warm, or somewhere with lots of people,” Renee advised. “Neil is apparently forever antagonistic and it drives Andrew up the wall.”

“Sexy up the wall or angry up the wall? I don’t think we should be encouraging strenuous activity when Neil’s been recovering from a bullet wound.” Renee just laughed, neither confirming nor denying Matt’s inquired. She bid both of them good day and went back to her desk, ignoring Minyard’s inquisitive looks. 

“Why are you doing this?” Dan murmured. 

Matt shrugged. “Dunno. I feel like he deserves it.” 

Dan smiled at him. “Alright.” 

*

Kevin, Renee, Matt and Dan were all sitting in the breakroom. Andrew stormed in, bright and cheery as ever. It was a blissful Tuesday morning, sleet pelting down and temperatures well below freezing: As Andrew tugged off his scarf, revealing a wind-pinked nose and a fair amount of love bites just above his collar, he chucked a tin onto the table. 

“Who’s idea was it?” Andrew accused. 

Kevin watched Matt grin, looking up at Andrew. They were almost the same height even with Matt sitting down. “How were the mountains?” 

“Very pleasant,” Andrew muttered, peeved. “Neil baked those as thanks. I hope he poisoned them. You’re all the worst.” After a moment, and a reprimanding glance from Renee, he mumbled out a quiet “Thank you.”  and just as quickly as he’d come in, he turned to leave. He must have caught his reflection in the window, because he hastily tugged the scarf back around his neck, cheeks turned pink. 

Kevin huffed, looking to his colleagues. “Are you satisfied enough, now? I, for one, now know way more about him than I ever wanted to.” 

The Boyd-Wildses opposite him just grinned. 

*

ehheeheewill i ever post the renison + wedding thing? hopefully yes - if i dont run out of steam first. almost 2/3s of the way through my rbb and its taking longer than i thought!!!! also moving out of state, so a lot is happening rn and if that means i neglect ur asks and prompts i am very sorry!!!! 

[ihopethisendswell]

Late night/ early morning posting cause I can:

So. Uh. Them character designs, huh? This is gonna be long, sooooo. Yeah. These are my pokemon oc's btw.

But really I just want to talk about them cause ever since I reimagined what they look like in my head, I just can't get them out.

First let's talk about Alexis. He honestly stayed the same, minus the hair. Though after some thinking, I feel like I might switch his white hoodie for a blue/black one. I'm not sure. But that's not what I want to talk about here. Oh no, I want to talk about his turtleneck! I've said before that it's sleeveless, but it's also cropped. Why? Why not. He also wears these fingerless elbow length gloves, cause why not. But really I like the juxtaposition of him wearing his hoodie, which generally covers a lot, and him with out it to be do revealing. Not to mention that the man is pretty buff. Being a trainer and a daycare owner is no joke y'all. Gotta but in the work. So I like to believe when he's training with his team, this is what you'll see.

Eva had a more drastic change. Besides shortening her hair, she now has vitiligo, something that I wasn't expecting but I like it very much! In terms of clothing, I want to have that blend between athletic casual and geeky engineer/ nerd. Still trying to figure that out, and I doubt any picrew will be able to perfectly capture it lol. In terms of body shape, she's still very tall, but not as slim, as she has a bit of muscle to her ( I picture her as a runner). While totally different in terms or looks and age, Penny Parker from Into the Spider verse was a huge inspirations for Eva's aesthetic.

Danica was the easiest honestly. Her whole look was that she looked soft and cozy( hence the warm neutral colors, mostly brown) but there was something ....off about her. While the picrew didn't have it, I wanted her to have a long red scarf, that both kinda matches her look, but also sticks out. The problem now is that her hair is longer now, and I don't want her design to be jumbled up. Maybe I should put her hair in a pony tail? Or should I have kept it short? But other than that, I like Danica's design. Quite soft vibes that will make you poffins or absolutely destroy you ☺️

Jude was also easy, given the games they're from has character customization. What they usually go for is more red, blacks and blues, and mostly things that are more androgynous. That doesn't mean they dabble in masculine or feminine clothing, it's just what they generally where. I like how the red is a great contrast with their green eyes, I love it. In general I want the vibe they give off as, ' Don't mess with me' but chill enough that you'll approach them. Whether or not they give you the time of day is up to them. And it turns if body shape, they're still the tallest, and pretty lanky.

Kenji is interesting, cause he's a lot of things. I wanted to combine him with the softness of Ethan and the bold loudness of Gold, with a little something of my own. What I ended up is with a loud nerd who does things and enjoys doing them. But really, I feel like Kenji is an artistic person, so I wanted to reflect that in his design. While the picrew I used showed him with just a plain shirt, I believe that it would be of different patches/ graphics designs on it. The same would go for his pants to. Like when he enters a room, you know he's there by his outfit. But I also not want it to be too crazy because Kenji is still a softie that values his quite time. His quite time to cuddle. Cuddle with the homies. He also LOVES jewelry, especially earrings. I don't know what is up with me and making a good portion of my oc's being athletic, but I feel like he would take up gymnastics. Don't ask my why. I don't know either. This is probably a good time to mention that I am not athletic, nor do I know shit about gymnastics.

Naomi, like Jude was pretty easy. I literally just swapped the colors of the varsity jacket and hat in game, and have her some hoop earrings that Nessa probably gave her at some point. I added some yellow to represent her being champion/ being a knight. I was gonna give her headphones cause she loves music, but I forgot :/.

Aster was fun cause she was originally gonna look like a splitting image of her mom, but then I said " what if she looked more like her dad?" and went with it. Her hair, I'd imagine, would just grow from the events from USUM/ SM so like her pigtail braids are just really long now. She wears a lot of turquoise and orange.

Jin. Oh Jin. You absolute enigma you. I have no idea what they're style is yet. The only thing I know is that I really like the long braid. Other than that. Nothing. I wanted them to resemble Emerald Brendan than oras Brendan though.

I'm kinda just realizing that I talk about this as if I can draw. I can't. I just watched a lot of speed paints, and in general like listening to people talk about fashion/ character design.

[orange-waterfalls]

Sleeping Beauty

Darkiplier x Wilford Warfstache

@grey-b0y ty for the request!(im sorry it took so long lol)

A/N: ight so. first time doin a ship. literally the best thing ive ever written. may like to do more. uhhhh Dark being an overworked bastard. Wilford being the caring boyf that he would be. Disney movies. If you couldn't already tell. Uhhhhh finished this in an hour, re-read it, may actually be the best thing I've ever made I'm ngl. Dark may be a bit OOC, but that's just cause he's a lil bit tired. uhhhhh yeah. Enjoy!

Requests are open

--

Dark let out a quiet sigh as he opened the door to his and Wilford’s house. He threw his suit jacket to the side with absolutely no fucks to give about where it landed. He stumbled through the house until he eventually landed in his office, plopping down in his chair and leaning back with a groan.

He had so much work he still had left to do, and it was already 9:00. He was so, so, so very tired. The egos had been especially annoying that week, all having the stupidest comments during meetings and refusing to shut up once they got started. Dark had noticed Wilford gave him a “look” whenever he saw the entity annoyed or angry. He didn’t want Wilford to worry, so he always brushed it off. In hindsight, it might have been a good idea to let Wil help him. They were in a relationship, after all. People are supposed to help those that they love. Dark never gave Wil much of a chance to do that. He felt bad for it at times.

Dark rubbed the bridge of his nose and yawned. He shook his head and cracked his neck and flexed his hands, trying to make himself more awake. “Trying” being the keyword here. He reached into his messenger bag and pulled out his laptop and computer mouse. He opened the laptop and opened a document of everything he was supposed to schedule, approve, and deny. He went through everything, the blue light illuminating his pale face, the bags under his eyes looking very prominent. Any person with eyesight and half a brain could see he was sleep-deprived and overworked.

He heard a noise come from somewhere in the house. He stopped clicking and raised his head a bit, trying to listen. Nothing else came. He shrugged lightly. He was probably just imagining things…

Probably…

Another noise. A THUMP. Louder this time. He took his hand away from the mouse and leaned back in his chair, watching the closed door of the office. He stared at it, waiting for another noise to show up.

The sound of shattered glass and Wilford cursing caused Dark to jump up out of his chair. He threw the door open and ran to the source of the noise.

“Wil!” He called as he stopped in the living room. The panicked look on his face died down into indifference and mild annoyance.

Wilford was laying on his back in the middle of the room, margarita glass in hand, with the window shattered and shards of glass surrounding him. He turned to Dark and smiled.

“Good evening, pumpkin!” He greeted joyfully. Dark exhaled deeply and walked over to Wilford. He had no problem with the glass because his shoes were still on. Wilford, apparently having some sort of supervision when it came to Dark, noticed this small fact. “Why do you have your shoes on? When did you get home?” Dark, ignoring the question, pulled Wilford to his feet.

“Where’s your key?” He asked, exasperated.

“Now, hold on. I asked you first. It’s not fair that I have to answer questions when you haven’t answered mine!” The reporter pouted. Dark rolled his eyes.

“Stuck in a meeting. Stuck in traffic. Got home a couple of minutes ago,” He sighed, “Where is your key, Wil?” Wilford looked around for a moment before his eyes landed on a clock. He let out an exaggerated gasp.

“Dark! It’s so late! You must be exhausted!” He said, cupping Dark’s face in his hands. He can’t help from melting into the touch of his favorite person.

“No, no, I’m fine, really,” Dark mumbled, obviously lying. Wilford frowned.

“Come along now, darling, you know you can’t lie to me,” He said, stepping a bit closer to him. He looked into Dark’s eyes while the entity avoided eye contact. Wilford huffed before his eyebrows raised and a smile formed on his lips. Dark noticed and furrowed his eyebrows

“What?” He asked, slightly worried. Wilford grabbed his hand and led him to their bedroom. Dark sighed.

“Wil, I don’t-” He was cut off by a T-shirt being thrown at his face. Dark, being extremely tired, didn’t process what had happened until he looked down and saw the shirt. He looked back up at Wilford, squinting a bit. Wilford had somehow already changed. He was wearing pink shorts and a white shirt with a rainbow on the front. Dark glanced down at the shirt and raised an eyebrow. Wilford cleared his throat.

“My eyes are up here, Darky-poo,” He teased. Dark would have blushed if he were less proud. Would have.

Dark rolled his eyes and picked up the shirt, ushering Wilford out. God knows how long into their relationship and Dark still refused to change in front of his boyfriend. Wilford shook his head and chuckled, heading into the kitchen.

--

He made two bowls of popcorn, knowing for a fact he would scarf down his in a matter of minutes. He walked into the living room. He heard creaking and looked back to see Dark walk in after him. The pale entity wore black boxers and the grey shirt that was thrown at him. Wilford smiled.

“What took so long, darling?” He asked sweetly. Dark scoffed at the third pet name that night.

“Resting my eyes,” he claimed. Wilford hummed, knowing it was a lie. He wouldn’t push it, though. Dark sighed. “What are we doing, Wil?”

“Watching Disney movies. Only the musicals, though,” Dark groaned.

“Wil-”

“Listen,” Wilford said, suddenly sounding serious. Dark closed his mouth. “I know you won’t listen to me when I tell you to rest. So, if you’re gonna stay awake, you might as well do something vaguely fun, right?” Dark smiled softly.

This person. This person loved him. This person cared about him more than anyone else did. And this person that cared about him was trying to help. Dark sighed, but not in an exasperated way. In an “I really can’t argue because a) I have nothing to argue and b) I kinda sorta really don’t wanna argue but I still wanna act like I do” kinda way. He shuffled his way over to the couch and plopped down next to Wilford, scooting as close to him as possible. Wilford grinned and settled himself.

“But do we have to do all of them?” Dark complained. Wilford stroked his mustache a bit.

“Well, no, but we gotta start somewhere.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you get to tell me which year to start from.”

“Last year.” That earned a small glare from Wilford. “Fine, fine… uh… 19...8...9?”

“The Little Mermaid it is!” Wilford said excitedly.

“Wait, you know all the years?”

“Of course I do! What do you think I am? Some sort of commoner?!” Dark slowly blinked at that wreck of a sentence and turned back to the TV screen. Wilford put an arm around Dark, who snuggled into the touch. Then, Wilford hit the play button on his remote.

--

Two movies later, Dark was out cold. They’d barely gotten through a third of “Newsies” before Wilford looked over and saw the entity sleeping. Wilford had been mindful enough to keep his singing voice to a minimum, and so Dark hadn’t woken up. Wilford wasn’t even sure how long he’d been asleep. When did he last look? Halfway through “Beauty and the Beast?” Aw, too bad. 30 more minutes and they would’ve started on “Aladdin”! Wilford shrugged and paused the film.

He gently shifted in his spot and lifted Dark into his arms. He slowly carried the “Sleeping Beauty”(shut up I’m funny) to their room. He gently laid Dark down on the bed, covering him with the blankets. Dark almost instantly cuddled into them. Wilford bit his lip as he stared down at his lover. Well, since they didn’t watch Sleeping Beauty…

Wilford gently leaned down and brushed a small curl out of Dark’s face. He gazed at his sleeping figure in admiration before leaning down further to connect their lips in a small kiss. Very small, more of a peck than a “kiss” kiss, but still. Dark slowly opened his eyes and blinked a few times as Wilford pulled away.

“Aw, Dark,” Wilford whispered, “I woke you with true love’s kiss!”

“You woke me, period,” Dark grumbled but stretched out his arms, tempting Wilford to go to bed.

Wilford climbed in next to Dark, spooning him. He held his arms tight around his partner’s torso, burying his nose into the entity’s hair and inhaling deeply.

��What are you doing?” Dark almost chuckled. Wilford smiled.

“I like your smell…”

“Oh?” Dark twisted around to look at Wilford. “And what do I smell like?”

“Home…” Wilford answered with a lovestruck look on his face. He could’ve sworn he saw a blush before getting hit in the face with a pillow. He laughed as Dark turned back around.

“You are the cheesiest person in the galaxy,” Dark said. Wilford’s lips curled into a grin as he snuggled up behind Dark again.

“Maybe…” He answered. Both of them sighed contently. “I love you…”

“I love you too...” Dark mumbled, still very tired, “Goodnight, Wil.” Wilford smiled as he tightened his grip ever-so-slightly.

“Good night, Sleeping Beauty…”

[artificialqueens]

Same Parts (Trixya) - DenDenMonMon

Of Lovers, Friends and Everything in Between. Part 3.- New Outfit

Title: Same Parts. Category: M/M Summary: He’s lickin’ his lips. His back on the wall. My ass on his d-d-d. Notes: This was actually the first story I wrote for the challenge, and I had no idea what I was getting myself into lol Quick reminder, female pronouns are used once they get in drag. Enjoy! -Monkey Written: Sept 29th, 2019

Same Parts

Trixie Mattel is done for the night.

All the elements that compose her have been haphazardly thrown into the suitcase that Brian now pulls across the driveway. The wheels jump with the cracks on the pavement, making the task harder than it should be. All he wants to do is get home, to reach the confinements of his house and forget all about the horrible night he just had.

It’s cold, or at least as cold as a California night can get. The wind has picked up and is now biting at his cheeks, making the path from the sidewalk –where the Uber has dropped him off– to the front door seem longer than usual. His nose is surely turning red as he fumbles with his keys. The ring is full, too full. He’s been meaning to purge it for the longest time, yet, every time he even starts thinking about it, he reasons that all the important pieces of metal are there for a reason. He goes through them, one by one, recognizing the different colors and brands; mentally pronouncing where they belong to until he’s able to remove the lock and push the heavy piece of wood open.

The smell of baking goods is the first thing that greets him. He can’t remember when was the last time the oven was used in that house. It’s probably the aroma of pancakes that reaches his nostrils, he concludes after a couple sniffs. The stink of cigarettes mixes with the food. All the lights are on, bathing the hallways with brightness, as Lana del Rey’s voice travels through them loudly. He won’t even try to guess the title of the song, they all sound the same to him. One thing he doesn’t have to speculate about, all those signs let him know that he is home.

“Brian!” He calls from his spot by the door. He’s in no mood of going around the place looking for him, not when his feet hurt from standing in heels all night; not when his muscles feel sore from all the dancing he was forced into. Yet, there is no answer.

For a moment, he considers just going upstairs and getting in the shower. His arrival will eventually be noticed. The inner debate is still going as he removes his jacket and scarf, leaving them on the little hooks by the door. Maybe he should check the kitchen, if nobody is there then he will find his way to the bedroom and wait there. Deep down, Brian knows all the baking and music blasting are activities to kill time until he returns home. It would be rude to go straight to bed without at least informing him he’s back.

Lana is by now singing something different, a faster tempo to accompany the same haunting voice. Then comes an unbelievably pitchy shout, which is probably a failed attempt to follow the lyrics.

He makes the last turn to enter the kitchen and that’s where he finds him, he finds her. The padded ass is up in the air as the whole torso disappears inside the fridge, taking too long to find something that is most likely right there. Brian doesn’t mind. He’s enjoying the view of the red thong shimmying in rhythm with the music, illuminated by the flourescent light of the refrigerator.

“Hey, Brian,” he tries once more, a little lower this time.

There’s a loud bang, followed by a grunt, before the full fantasy of Katya emerges from the fridge.

“Oh, hi!” Katya says, her hand rubbing the back of her head, the blonde curls of the wig going up and down to the movement. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

Her heels click-clack on the tiles of the kitchen as she makes her way to him. Red lips are pressed against his stained ones a little too quickly. Brian closes his eyes and chases after her, provoking a low laugh from her. She complies. Walking directly into his space, she crosses her arms around his neck and pushes her perfectly sculpted body against his.

She kisses him a couple of times. Small pecks that barely allow any contact of their lips. Brian groans in frustration and she smiles against his lips, enjoying the power she already has on him.

“How was the gig?” Her question is simple, he should be able to answer it without a problem, but he’s distracted. Her fingers rubbing against his cheeks, probably trying to remove the remainings of his heavy make up, make it hard to concentrate.

He pulls her for a hug, feeling the need to be closer to her and recharge with her energy. He sighs into her neck. “It was horrible. All those baby queens have no idea what they are doing.” A strand of hair hits his lips and he blows the plastic away from his face. “Why can’t I just always work with you?” he whines. His open palms land on her waist, compressed by the red corset. “What is this, by the way?”

The wheezing that follows sounds a lot louder when she’s delivering it right into Brian’s ear. She pushes him back, needing space to bend over in laughter. Her eyes fall shut and her mouth falls open. Then, there’s no sound leaving her body, but she’s still shaking with amusement.

“I-I… I completely forgot!” Her hands squeeze his arm tightly, trying to physically transmit the hilarity of the situation. “I forgot I was in full drag,” she finally says a little calmer. “I just finished stoning this.” There’s a little turn to show off her handywork. The restraining garment shining bright as tiny stones catch the light. “I tried it on, but it didn’t look right without the shoes, and to wear shoes I needed tights, and the tights don’t fit without padding…” her hand waves in the air, indicating he should know where her rambling is going. He does.

“This makes me feel like a biological woahman.” Her hands rub down her crotch, in that exaggerated manner that is meant to be sexy. She looks goofy more than anything else.

Brian inspects the piece of clothing with detail. She’s really good at what she does. Katya is, most likely, the best drag queen he’s ever met, and he’s not afraid to admit it. She can be hot and sexy, but also funny and intelligent. There’s nothing about her that he doesn’t like, or at least not when she’s nothing but round hips and small waist, when she’s covered in nothing but a bra, a thong, and the brand new corset.

“See something you like?” The red lips turn into a kinky smirk, and just then does he realize he’s licking his lips with desire.

He wants her, he wants her so bad. He wants to see the wig bobbing as she sucks him off. He wants to see red nails digging into his flesh. He wants to have lipstick stains all across his chest, and stomach, and… He has to stop himself. He’s tired and aggravated, and doesn’t feel like starting something he won’t be able to see through.

His head is nodding before he can finish his train of thoughts. His body is answering her question without asking him permission to do so.

“Just remember, baby, what you see…” she starts out sexily, but by the time she reaches the middle of her sentence she’s full on laughing. “Isn’t always the truth.”

Despite himself, he’s laughing right along. “That stupid song - I swear!” He doesn’t have to finish his warning, the recurrent joke is here to stay, and they both know it, so there’s no fighting it.

“What-what?” She laughs, once again closing the gap between them. “Darling, I’ve got the same parts that you do.” Her words leave her mouth at the same time that long fingers circle his wrist, bringing his hand to touch between her legs. She’s not tucked, and is already getting hard for him.

His eyes widen, and his hand caresses her on its own accord. “Oh, wow,” he pushes through gritted teeth, his own arousal growing by the minute.

The small smirk turns into a full smile. “I made you pancakes for dinner but I guess we can jump straight to the dessert.” She removes his hand from herself and, before he knows it, she’s making her way up the stairs with him in tow.

Doing his best not to step on her heels, Brian follows close behind. His heartbeat is racing and he wonders if she can feel the pulse point on his wrist. His entire body is pulsing, his bottom half more than any other. His eyes are glued to the swaying movement of her ass right in front of his face. There’s an impulse to bite it, to have his teeth sinking into the tender flesh and firm muscles. He has to wait to do that, until she’s rid of all the green foam and Katya becomes Brian again.

With a swift movement, she pushes all the fabric she had been working on to the floor, leaving the bed with nothing but the fitted sheet and a few pillows on top.

“Help me take this off. I don’t wanna ruin my new creation before it even sees the stage.”

She turns around, two ribbons are gracefully laced across her back, and he untangles them with ease. One by one he pulls the silky streams from their hooks. Her breathing becomes lighter as her torso is released from the restriction of the garment. Just when he’s about to take the corset off, he discovers there’s a zipper that still holds the damn thing together.

“Oh, fuck me!” he grumbles frustratedly.

A small giggle leaves her as she looks over her shoulder, attempting to face him. “I’m trying, but I need you to take this off first.”

Her own hands snake behind herself, finding the device and struggling to get a hold of it with her long nails. He places his fingers around hers and, together, they pull it down. The stones tickle his arm as he catches the corset, but he couldn’t care less. All he sees are the indentations the material has left on her skin. He runs his fingers over the deep grooves and soon his lips follow the red paths, leaving sweet kisses. His tongue runs up and down the marks, trying to ease the pain.

“Jesus,” she exhales seductively. Partly enjoying the soothing sensation, and partly in desire.

She pushes her lower half hard against him. The sudden move throws him off balance, his back hits the wall behind him as she keeps on rubbing her ass on his crotch. He feels himself growing stiff inside his pants, she surely can’t tell, though, not with all the layers separating them. That can be taken care of. His fingers find the waistband of her tights and pull them down, bringing her shiny red thong and all the pads down with it.

And he can’t believe his luck. There’s no room in his mind to comprehend how he is worthy of dating someone so hot. Brian’s body is standing in front of him, in all its naked glory, skin covered with many tattoos; but Brian is also Katya, with a messy wig on and a full face of makeup.

“Undress.” It’s not a request, it’s a command, one that he obeys as Katya puts the just-finished outfit away, safely hanging it in the closet. Her ass, Brian’s real ass, is in full display as she walks away, and the view is even better from the front when she comes back, wearing nothing but the sparkling bra.

He makes sure to be completely naked and ready once Katya returns. Brian’s lying on the bed, his fist is closed around himself, slowly going up and down.

“I’m sorry you had such a bad night,” she says a little too nicely, verging on condescending, as she positions herself between his open legs. “Now, let me make it all better for you.”

The signs of a bottle being opened barely reach Brian’s ears, he’s too lost in the fog of desire to really make out his surroundings. That is until a finger is inserted; the cold of the lube makes him yelp, then there are heavy moans leaving his lips as a second finger goes in. He feels in full Trixie mode, loudly expressing how good it feels to have all the tensions of the night washing away.

“Look at me, baby.”

He does. Brian opens his eyes just to see Katya’s beautiful face contort in pleasure as she enters him, inch by painful inch. She’s making little whimpering noises, feeling her full woman fantasy as she thrusts deep into him. The feminine sighs only turn Brian on even more. As the signs of his orgasm start to build, he can feel all the anger and annoyance melting away. It doesn’t take long before he finds his release, screaming loudly and taking Katya right over the cliff with him.

She pulls out slowly, making him whimper at the loss of contact. Her still red lips land on his stomach, her tongue licking him clean.

“Maybe I should try on new drag more often.”

His tired body can’t do anything but let out a small, “Yes, please.”

[brieannakeogh]

Little Spoon

**REPOST**

I wrote a one shot!! I’m so proud of myself. Every story I start tends to be at least 10 chapters long lol.  Anyway enjoy smut.

Warnings- PWP, maybe a little bit of plot if you squint. Smut, lots of smut. 

Bucky x Reader (nothing to say plus size in particular but nothing to say not as well)

Little Spoon- You enjoy being the big spoon and want Bucky to see how nice it is to be the little spoon. 

Master List

You had been living at the Avengers tower for about six months now, ever since your powers started to show themselves and you were deemed “too dangerous for normal society”. Tony took you in, and now you had a pretty much normal life. There were still missions and training, but there was also takeout parties, tv watching, video game playing, and many other everyday things. It was 1000% times better than living on the street wondering where your next meal would come from.

There were a couple of super soldiers in the tower that you had gotten along with right away, especially Bucky. He was also deemed “too dangerous” and that fascinated you, how he could go from Winter Soldier to happy, simi-well adjusted Bucky in just a few years. Maybe there was hope for you too.

On non-mission days the routine was always the same. Get up, have breakfast, train in the gym, reading mission reports, then free time. Today however you were exhausted. You didn’t sleep well the night before and had decided to skip breakfast in favor of more sleep. The problem came when you didn’t get up to go to the gym either.

“Dammit, why do I always have to go wake her ass up. I’m not a babysitter.” Bucky grumbles to Steve.

“Because she will actually get up for you.” Steve reminds him. This wasn’t the first time this happened. Usually Bucky would just bang on the door and shout at you, before you came running out, listing a string of sorrys as you both go down to the gym. Bucky usually sneaking you a protein bar, to scarf on your way down. He still complained every time.

Bucky of course coincides with Steve and goes back up to the floor your on, walking the familiar halls to bang on your door. “Get the lead out! Come on sleeping beauty, don’t make me come in there and get you!” He banged one more time and stands there puzzled. At this point he should hear scrambling and shouting that it would be just a minute for you to get dressed. He tries again. Nothing. Ok now he’s concerned. Are you sick?

“F.R.I.D.A.Y?” He asks the hallway.

“Yes Sergeant Barnes.”

“She’s in her room right?”

“Yes she is.”

“Can you open the door for me?”

“That is a violation of her privacy.”

Bucky scrubs a hand down his face. “Just cut me some slack ok? I have to get her butt to the gym and she’s not answering. She could be sick.”

There is a pause in response. “Fine. If anyone asks this was entirely your bad idea Sargent.”

“Thank you!” He tells the AI when he hears the click of the lock. Opening the door he see you are still curled up in bed. A tank with little cotton shorts on. The funniest part is you are hugging a large body pillow. You are on your side, one leg and an arm thrown over it, but you are squeezing it to death. He chuckles at the drool coming from your mouth.

“Doll?” He calls at the side of your bed, your back to him. He reaches out to shake you on the shoulder. You just crawl into the pillow more and now have a death grip on the thing. If you really are sick he doesn’t want to startle you awake, so he goes over the the other side to face you and sits on the edge of the bed. He runs a hand over your sleeping forehead, moving the hair away and feeling for a fever. Not finding anything wrong he frowns, shifting back to irritated that you won’t wake up.

He grabs the body pillow and shakes it. “Wake up, or I’m going to take this thing and rip it to shreds.” That got you to open your eyes.

“Nooooooo…” You whine. “Just let me sleep Buck, I’m so tired.”

“You know you have to train, and if I come back empty handed, Steve will come in here and drag you out of bed.”

You smirk at him. “No he wouldn’t. I just have to tell him I’m dead tired and he will cave. That’s why he always sends you.”

Bucky grumbles knowing it had been an empty threat. “Fine then I can just pick you up and haul your ass down to the gym. How would you like that?”

“You wouldn’t!” A look of horror flashes on your face as you realize what you are wearing. Everything too tight on your soft thighs and tummy to be considered decent.

“You want to try me?” Bucky tugs harder on your body pillow and you cling more to it, letting out a high pitched squeal when he tugs it off the bed with you attached.

“Bucky! Oh my god! Put me down! You really are going to rip it.” He hovers you over the bed so you can let go safely. “You are insane!”

“You are the one that held on. I warned you several times what would happen if you didn’t get up. Besides why are you so clingy to this thing?”

Sitting up in bed with your legs crossed under you, you watch Bucky turn the pillow this way and that waiting on an answer.

“Because...it’s like having another person in bed.” You mumble quietly. Of course you knew that he would be able to hear you. What you didn’t expect was him bursting out laughing.

“Doll, if you had the grip like I saw when I came in, on an actual person, they would be dead in their sleep. You had the thing in a choke hold, strangling it. Look even the top is all limp from the stuffing having been pushed out.” Huffing you reach for your pillow. “Nu-uh. You don’t get it back until you are up and dressed. We gotta go.” He tells you. You get up and head to the closet to change. You can hear the bed squeak when he sits on it waiting for you. “If you wanted to cuddle so bad, why didn’t you say so? I would have been better than a pillow, then you could be the little spoon and I wouldn’t be strangled in my sleep.”

“I like being the big spoon!” You shout at him from the closet, poking your head out to make a face at him.

“What girl likes being the big spoon, you weirdo?”

“I have more range of movement, if I get too hot I can roll over at any time, and wide backs are made for cuddling. Most guys enjoy being the little spoon they just don’t want to admit it. I hadn’t heard a complaint yet.”

“They don’t complain because they want to fuck you again.” He chuckles.

You come out fully dressed in your work out gear. “Don’t be rude Bucky.”

“Hey, I’m just stating facts.” He holds his hands up in surrender, still having your pillow in one of them. “Ready?”

“Yeah.” You hold out your palm and he hands you the pillow. “Bucky!” You whine. “Didn’t you bring me anything to eat?” Wiggling your eyebrows.

“You’re a spoiled little brat, anyone ever told you that?” He says as he hands you a bar, which you tear into immediately.

“Yeash.” You say chewing around the big bite. “You, pretty much everyday. Every time you spoil me. You would think you would learn your lesson.” You tell him after you swallow. The two of you start walking down the hall to the elevators.

He just shakes his head.

Training is tiring and after you go up to your room for a shower, you’ve got a bit of a break before lunch and decide to take a nap. You’ve changed into some athletic lounge wear, leggings and a cute top, forgoing a bra. Cuddling up with your body pillow, you fall right to sleep.

‘What is taking her so long?’ Bucky thinks as he is waiting for you in the kitchen. You were just going to go shower and then come back for lunch right? He had fixed you a sandwich while he fixed his own, but now he was starting to get annoyed. Leaving the lunch in the kitchen he goes back to your room. He knocks but no answer. He tries the door handle and apparently you had left it unlocked. The tower is safe, and no one here would do anything but you still shouldn’t leave the door unlocked while you shower! What were you thinking?

He steps in and sees you asleep, again. Same position as last time, squeezing the life out of the top of the pillow. “What are you doing? I made us lunch, get up!” He tells you, but your only response is to shift a little and produce a whine in the back of your throat, not even waking up.

Bucky decides he’s had enough and throws back the covers. If the shorts from this morning were bad, the leggings were worse. He always loved them on you and now seeing your leg wrapped around the pillow, making your ass look amazing, he just stopped and stared. You had told him this morning you liked being the big spoon so he was imagining that leg wrapped around him, and the arm thrown over his back and chest. Maybe instead of his back you would cling to, he could face you, burying his face in your tits and gripping that thigh that was over him.

He shakes his head trying to rid himself of the dirty thoughts before his simi turns into a full blown hard on. The two of you were just friends, nothing more. You were a spoiled little princess, and he always ended up feeding that bad behavior by doting on you, mostly because he knew the living conditions Tony pulled you from. He thought you deserved to be spoiled from time to time, but he didn’t know you would go full on brat on him. Give you an inch and you take a mile.

“You can’t sleep through lunch if you slept through breakfast.” He tugs on the pillow since that is what got you up this morning.

“Bucky, why can’t you let me sleep?! I was up most of the night with nightmares last night and didn’t fall asleep until 4 this morning.” You whine again at him and he stops pulling.

“Why didn’t you say something before now? I told you to wake me up if you have another nightmare.” He sits on the edge of the bed.

You hadn’t meant to tell him the reason for lack of sleep. When you got to the tower you had nightmares most nights. Sleep wasn’t easy to come by. Gradually they slowed down until it was a rare occurrence, but lately they were coming back. You would always talk to Bucky about your dreams, but he seemed so happy when you started to get better and could sleep through the night, you didn’t want to tell him they were coming back.

You huff, burying your face in the pillow before you relent and sit up facing him. “They’ve been back for about 2 weeks now. Almost every night. Usually I can get back to sleep but I couldn’t last night.” Hanging your head down, not wanting to look at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked.

“I didn’t want you to be disappointed that I relapsed. You did so much to make me feel better when I first got here that I didn’t want you to think all you’ve done is in vain.”

“Doll, we all have bad weeks. I am so far from the person I was when I got here but I still have relapses sometimes. Do you know what gets me through them?” You shake your head. “I talk to my friends. You can’t bottle it up, it’s not good for you. Now if I can only get that through Steve’s thick skull. You’re already a brat, I don’t need another Steve on my hands too.”

You giggle at him as he puts his arm around your shoulder, pulling you to him. “Thanks Bucky, I’ll try to remember that.” He nods at you.

“You want to go back to sleep or eat lunch?” He asks.

“Think you can get me out of mission report summaries?” Looking up at him with wide pleading eyes.

“Fine but you owe me.” He sighs out as you hug him tightly.

“Ok lunch first and then nap. You said you had already fixed it?” You look around for the food.

“So you weren’t asleep yet when I came in? Also I didn’t bring it in here, you have to go out and eat at the table like a normal person.”

“Uggg but it’s so far!”

“Tough!” He tells you as he helps you off the bed.

You ate lunch with the other members and Bucky makes up an excuse for you to Steve to get you out of mission report reading. Steve seems to know what’s up by the disapproving dad face, but doesn’t argue.

“Thanks Buck!” You tell him, linking your arm through his as you walk down the hall to your room.

“Is there a particular thing you are thanking me for? Because I’ve done a lot today.”

“Ha. Ha.” You deadpan. “But seriously, thanks for everything.” You got somber and quiet.

“No problem Doll.” He pats your arm as you are in front of the door. “Have a good nap.”

“Hey Bucky?” You don’t let go of his arm when he tries to pull away. His eyebrows lift in a questioning glance. “Umm, did you mean what you said this morning?”

“What did I say?” His brows furrowed, thinking on what you talked about earlier.

“That you would make a better cuddle buddy then my pillow. It helps some, but if I have a nightmare or something…” You trail off.

“Of course, but only if I can be the big spoon.” He smirks.

“Nope, I told you I’m the big spoon.”

“I don’t think that would work out well.” He chuckles, but thinks back on what he imagined this morning, his face getting a little warm.

“Come on, I’ll prove it to you.” You drag him into your room and throw back the covers. “Strip to what you normally wear and get in.” He’s standing there in jeans and a tee shirt, but doesn’t move.

“Doll I don’t think you’ll want me to do that. I’ve got some sleep pants in my room I can go get.” He points a thumb behind him to the door.

“Why? What do you sleep naked?” You ask rolling your eyes. Then giving him a harder look when he doesn’t deny it. He shrugs his shoulders.

“Fine, boxers and tee shirt then?” Again no reply. “What the fuck do you go commando everywhere?!”

“Not on missions, usually. Underwear is just so restrictive.”

“So those loose gray sweatpants you love to wear around here, ya got nothing underneath?!” Another shrug. “Bucky! I’ve sat in your lap before when you wore those!”

“Yes and thank you very much for that.” He smirks as you hit him on the shoulder.

“Just go grab some underwear or whatever and come back. I’m determined to show you that guys can be the little spoon too.”

“Fine, fine.” He leaves and comes back a little later in a white tee with the same gray sweatpants that you were talking about. He closes the door and locks it. “You really should keep the door locked when you’re sleeping.” He scolds.

You sigh irritably and point to the bed where he gets in, and you follow behind.

“Ok, how do you normally sleep?” You ask him.

“I don’t know, it changes.”

“Pretend I’m not here and get comfortable.” He rolls over on his side facing you. “Not like that!”

“You said to get comfortable.” He grins at you.

“If you like to be on your side roll over.” He does facing the other way from you. The two of you were pretty close and cuddly anyway. Always laying on each other on the couch or you would sit in his lap a lot, and his head would rest in yours, but this seemed different as you scoot up to his back, pressing your chest against it. Your leg going over his hip and arm draping his chest. Your head was a couple of inches above his sharing the same pillow as you buried your face in his hair. “Mmmm see isn’t this nice?” Pressing closer to him so there isn’t an inch of space between you.

“It’s weird. I still have the urge to roll over and face you.”

“Ok, that’s fine. I can be the big spoon there too, it’s just a little more embarrassing that way.” You clear your throat a bit and lift your leg and arm up a couple of inches for him to roll over.

“What’s embarrassing?” He asks before he gets all the way in position. His face right at boob level. “Well it’s definitely more intimate.” He stutters.

You laugh and place a kiss on his forehead as you scoot down just a bit so his face is more at neck level. “This better?”

“I wasn’t complaining.” He grumbled.

You hook your leg over his a bit more and drape his arm over you side with your arm on top. The arm that is under your body you lift up to slide under the pillow and his neck, cradling his head, pressing his face to your neck, running your fingers through his hair.

“I’m not sure I trust this position. I’ve seen that pillow, I know what your arm does when you are asleep.” He mumbles into your neck. His breath making a shiver run down your spine.

“Hush. You’re not a soft as a pillow you know.”

He hums and relaxes a bit more into you, placing a soft kiss to your neck. His fingers running down your spine. “This isn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

“Told ya.”

From this position he can hear your heart pounding faster with each touch he makes. “Are ok Doll? It sounds as if you’re going to have a heart attack.” He chuckles and kisses your neck again, hearing it speed up even more.

“Bucky, what are you doing?” Your breath coming out heavier. You didn’t want him to stop, but knew if he didn’t it could potentially change your friendship forever. While you’ve had a crush on him since pretty much day one, you also didn’t want to lose the person you were closest with in the tower.

He grabs you by the thigh that is hooked over his, pressing closer at the hips, kissing up your neck and under your jaw. “Just tell me to stop doll and I’ll do it.” He lifts his own leg to press his thigh at the apex of yours, rubbing it against you. You whimper and he lifts his head to growl and nip at your ear. Your hands still in his hair, tugging and fisting in it.

“Fuck…” His hand find its way under your shirt, splaying his fingers over your back to press you closer to him, thigh still rocking into your core. “Darlin’ I’ve wanted this for a long time, but if you don’t just...oh fuck…” You give a particularly harsh tug to his hair and press his face closer to your neck. He takes this as a hint to shut up about stopping and sucks a dark mark onto your neck as you moan above him.

You are desperate to feel his skin, but don’t want to pull away and untangle yourself from him. Taking your free hand, you push his shirt up, rubbing down his side and over his back as he keeps planting kisses and marks on your neck and shoulder. He hisses when your nails scrape down the edges of his abs. At this point you both are dry humping the other. You press yourself more into his thigh and can feel how hot, heavy and hard he’s become under his sweatpants.

The more you whimper the harder he presses his thigh into you. You need more of his skin so on the next pass down his side you keep going pushing his sweatpants down a few inches on his hips. He doesn’t remove his thigh from between yours so you can’t go far down, just enough to slip his cock out of his pants. You back away just a bit so you can work a hand between you, covering the velvety feeling shaft with your hand. Every time he rocks into you with his thigh he presses himself into your palm, both of you are panting, ragged gasps of air.

He’s marking a nice little spot behind your ear, when he pulls back. Lips leaving skin and his hand leaving your back. It finds itself on the nape of your neck twisting your head so he can push his lips to yours. The first real kiss and you moan into it. It’s everything you thought it would be and more. You ravage each other’s mouths until you have to pull back. He rests his forehead to you, lips barely touching, breathing each other in. Locking eyes with you, seeing your blissed out expression he asks, “You gonna cum for me baby doll?”

You bite your lip. “Mmmm...Buck...more…” He nods and kisses you again. He slips his hand down pulling on your leggings and panties, pushing them all the way off along with his sweats. Quickly he slots his thigh between yours, rocking harshly. You cry out from the direct contact, clinging on to him as best you can.

“Oh fuck, fuck….Bucky!” He presses harshly to you once more and he can feel the excess wetness as you cum. Rolling over he slots himself between your legs, arms propped hovering above you. You can feel his hot cock running through your slick as he give little minute thrusts.

With a last searing kiss, he pulls back. Pulling off his shirt, and pushing yours up as well to feel as much skin on skin as possible. “Ready for more?” He asks, a teasing tone in his voice. Nodding is the only response you can form as he, lifts your legs by the back of the knees and places one over his shoulder and the other around his hip. Easing into you, he can feel you tighten around him. Your walls already fluttering from the last orgasm.

You’re in agony at how slow he is going. You want to shout at him that you aren’t something made of glass that can break, but with his strength that could be true, not that you could find the words at this moment. The only words that leave you are “Please” and his name over and over.

The last few inches he thrust suddenly, fully enveloped in your warmth. He grins at your squeak of surprise and the way you tighten on his cock. Starting slow, he soon finds a rough pace. Snapping his hips, the sound of skin slapping skin can be heard loudly through the room.

He bends down to take a nipple in his mouth as he continues thrusting. He can tell you are close, the way your faces scrunches each time he thrust hard and how your eyes are screwed up tight. “Doll.” Voice like gravel, deep and tone full of command. “Look at me. I want to see you when you come.” His thumb moves to your clit when you lock eyes with him. Barely any blue left in them, pupils dilated, little more than a thin blue ring around the black.

You try your best to do as he says but it gets harder and harder the closer you get. All at once on a particularly hard thrust and flick of your clit, your orgasm slams into you. White creeping into the edges of your vision and it is impossible to keep your eyes on him as you scream his name. It doesn’t take him much longer to finish himself, your name like a prayer on his lips as he comes down from his high.

He doesn’t pull out as he rolls you to a similar position that you started in bed. Facing each other, your leg over his hip and his face in your chest. Both panting, regaining your senses.

“I guess you liked being the little spoon huh?” You tease him.

Bucky laughs, both gasping at the sensation it caused with him still inside you. “Yeah, you convinced me. Little spoon is good too.” He sighs contentedly. “We should get up and get cleaned up.” He mumbles into your neck.

Your arms and legs tighten around him. “Five more minutes.”

“Fine my spoiled princess. Five more minutes.”

You both were asleep in three.

**NO TAGS REPOSTED**

[rosaline-kei]

Don’t Go - Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Attack on Titan/Shingeki no Kyojin nor the characters.

Parts: 「1」��2」「3」

Chapter 3′s Title: Stay

Synopsis: Even after what was thought to be the end of the chaos, Mikasa Ackerman struggles with conflict, confusion and her emotions. The Raven plans to leave for the Kingdom of Hizuru—without a proper goodbye to Eren Jaeger. What is she running away from? What is she afraid of? Are apologies enough to heal? (Contains Manga Spoilers)

Prompt Summary (from a user): The reunion of Eren and Mikasa after Eren comes back from Grisha’s memories. Even though Eren’s head got blown away xD, I think that he will transform into his Titan Form. After reading the latest chapter I Think Eren will apologize to Mikasa for everything he did to her after the time-skip and will probably tell her not to join that Kiyomi and the Hizuru Kingdom. Thank you!!!

Eren wouldn’t let Mikasa leave for Hizuru because he knows that she loves him and that her love has nothing to do with her Ackermann genetics.

Takes Place after the war is finally settled. When Eren apologizes to Mikasa and Armin and ofc to all the members of the 104. Squad

I don’t think that Mikasa will accept his apology immediately since she is the Person that got hit the hardest by Eren’s deeds and especially his words in chapter 112

Rated: T

Read it also on / Leave a Review at:

Ao3 or FF net

Author’s Note (READ AFTER READING CHAPTER 3): Phew! Finally done with this mini-series! I might add an epilogue when I have time haha. And lol, Kiyomi and her ship cutting off Eren words. Who knows what he was going to say… hm. Oh well haha >:). On another note, I hope this was an okay last chapter! 

Eren was now running.

The moment he heard the key unlocking his damn cell, he sprinted away and towards the docks. Clenched in his fist were a red scarf and a piece of paper where Armin jotted down the exact location where Mikasa would be at.

As he ran, he began to remember the things Armin said to him the other day…

The things he said about Mikasa.

But before his thoughts could dive any further, he spotted a figure standing at the docks, which he didn't fail to recognize immediately.

"M…Mikasa!" He called out hastily.

He hoped it wasn't too late.

The figure turned, and his pair of emerald orb finally meets her obsidian orbs that soon widen in shock.

"E-Eren?!"

-

As Eren was running, what Armin said about Mikasa the other day had come flashing in his mind.

"…How do you know I'll be able to stop her…?" Eren mumbled out subconsciously. Undoubtedly, he did want to stop her. He… couldn't bare the idea of her leaving, especially when he hadn't had the chance to speak to her. But given the fact she had given the red scarf back to Eren, he wasn't even sure if she wanted to see him, or if she'd even listen to him at this point.

Armin only scoffed, which was followed by a small smile that formed on his lips. "Because you're Eren Jaeger… you would never let someone you care about so deeply, leave for a reason like that."

When Armin had said those words, Eren heaved a heavy sigh as he clenched onto her red scarf tightly. “I can never win an argument with you, you know that?”

The blonde smirked. But before he could respond, Eren continued. “But I have to admit, I’m a little scared…”

It astounded Armin, it really did. It astounded how this man who brought the chaos to an end, who threw his humanity away for the sake of others was scared. Though, it couldn’t be helped.

“Before you say something sarcastic or taunting,” Eren spoke, as if he had predicted his friend’s next few words and actions, “I just… I mean, you’re right. I’m not the type to easily give up.”

Armin raised a brow, “So what’s the problem?” He queried.

Eren’s eyes briefly looked towards the scarf, before turning and facing back to Armin. “What if she hates me? Though, if she does, I deser—”

“Eren.” Armin stopped him before he could’ve completed his sentence. “Stop doubting. By now, you should very well know how she feels, right?”

And when Eren didn’t respond immediately, he continued. “Do you love Mikasa?”

The moment that question left the lips of the blonde, he instantly turned away from him, facing one of the brick walls that confined him. Though, the blue-eyed male had already caught a glance of the brunette’s widened emerald hues.

That question was so familiar, and Eren knew why.

What am I to you, Mikasa?

It was a question he had asked.

Admittedly, it wasn’t the same question. But both questions were similar in one sole thing—feelings.

Right now, as the topic of romance floated in the air, the brunette should be blushing. He should be feeling butterflies fluttering in his stomach. He should feel his heart racing at the mere thought of her.

But he wasn’t and it wasn’t because he didn’t feel those sort of emotions towards her.

He felt pain and regret for saying harsh things to her. But at the same time, if he hadn’t said those harsh things to severe their bond, he knew she’d continue to chase after him, endangering herself. The last thing he wanted was her to get tangled up into affairs that she shouldn’t be in— that he didn’t want her to be in.

I want to be the one protecting you instead. He had promised himself, back then.

He didn’t know when he caught such feelings for her. He just knew another powerful, overwhelming emotion had always belittled that little spark of touching feelings.

Revenge. Revenge and Anger were something he felt for so long. And sometimes, they tend to drown the other emotions he felt.

He now felt pain, because he wasn’t sure if these new blossoming feelings that decided to grow deserved to be reciprocated by her.

Not to mention, this was the first time he ever felt these sort of feelings. This feeling. He didn’t know how to deal with it or how to act on it.

It was all just new, too new to him.

Unknown to Eren, he had been subconsciously gripping the red fabric even tighter, as if he feared to let go. And though Armin was unable to face him now, he smiled. Because at least that could confirm something.

“The war’s finally over, Eren.” Armin started calmly, “Before you decide to lose your determination overnight, and decide to let go of her, I suggest you let go of your anger, your vengeful heart and your burden as ‘humanity’s last hope’.”

“It’s over, Eren.” Armin continued, “Let loose and sink yourself in the freedom you returned to Paradis. Open up your heart to new feelings and embrace them.” The blonde smiled a little. “Mikasa... she… most likely has a lot of things to say to you. And like I said, you’re Eren Jaeger. I’m pretty sure even if you tell yourself that it’s okay to ‘give up’, your instinct will just pull you out. Because I know Eren Jaeger wouldn’t let Mikasa Ackerman leave for a reason like that.”

When he didn’t respond, Armin turned his back, about to take his leave. He already said his part, now it was just up to Eren.

“What about you?” He finally voiced out the moment the blonde took a step away, about to leave. “Don’t you have a lot of things to say to me too?”

“Yeah,” Armin scoffed. “A lot. A lot of questions. But,” He turned, to see Eren turned towards his direction a little. He took a brief glimpse at him before turning back, and continued with his walk as he said, “But, I’m not the one leaving tomorrow, am I?”

-

Now, Eren was face-to-face with Mikasa.

There was a brief silence between the two, until Mikasa noticed the red scarf Eren held, and Eren noticed the red ruby necklace on her neck.

“Why did you bring that here?”

“Why are you wearing that?”

They both said in synch, before Eren bit his lip and Mikasa looked away.

Mikasa should’ve known Armin would’ve done something like this. A part of her wished she had trusted this scarf to a stranger to return it to Eren. Because she knew even if she had asked Connie, Jean or even that damned midget, it’d still be in his hands before she left. But then again… she couldn’t bring herself to trust a stranger to be responsible for returning that red piece of fabric.

Maybe she still cared for that scarf after all.

“Because this doesn’t belong to me.” Eren was the first to answer. “It belongs to you.” He sounded firm, and it reminded how stubborn he could be. She already knew how persistent he was going to be.

“It should be around your neck, instead of that.” He referred to the red ruby necklace around her neck, to which was to act as a welcome gift for Mikasa if she chose to return back to Hizuru. For one reason or another, Eren didn’t like the fact that that was around her neck, instead of her scarf which had been gifted by him a long time ago.

Even if Armin never told him what that red ruby necklace was or meant, he already knew. He wasn’t naïve nor so dense to not understand.

“It’s a gift.” Mikasa murmured, albeit still looking towards the ocean. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him, not now at least. “That’s why I’m wearing it.”

Eren frowned. “So is this.” He argued back, raising the scarf. But she didn’t turn around. “And it’s yours. It’s not mine, Mikasa.” He sounded softer now, and she noticed.

It ached her heart so much to hear the softer side of the brunette speak. She didn’t know how long she had last heard it… but she knew it was most likely a long time. To say she missed it was an understatement.

She felt herself slowly sinking in her vulnerability. Why did Eren had this power over her? To make her feel so…

Maybe she was a slave to him after all, to her Ackerman genes.

Mikasa chose not to say anything, in fear that she might say something that might just reveal all too much, all things that she might not even know or rather, acknowledge yet.

But, alas, Eren said some words that just made her want to reply.

“I’m sorry.” It was a personal apologise, and there wasn’t a faintest insincerity in his tone. It was a genuine apology, one of sorrow.

“For what?” She murmured, still looking away. Her question wasn’t meant to give him a cold shoulder. She was genuinely curious of what he was sorry for. And a malicious voice in her head whispered doubts in her ear, convincing her that if anything, the last thing he was sorry for was calling her a slave.

But that wasn’t the case.

“For everything.” Eren answered, and the softness in his tone remained. “I’m sorry for everything.”

Mikasa finally turned around. Though, with a distressed expression all over her face.

She had a million things she wanted to say to him. She wanted to shout at him. She wanted to scream at him. She wanted to say something in a similar soft tone to him. She wanted to speak with him gently. She wanted to cry out to him, in both anger and sadness. She wanted those feelings that she had deep down, to come out and reveal themselves.

But all that came out was one painful sentence.

“I’m still leaving for Hizuru.”

And the moment those words left her lips for Eren’s ears to hear, Mikasa saw something she hadn’t seen in a long time.

There was sadness in Eren’s eyes. Or maybe it was misery, or pain. Maybe all three. For a long time, Mikasa hadn’t seen such despondent and heart-wrenching emotions in him. Even during the war, he looked… empty. But perhaps, that was just a mask he had worn to trick the enemy. A mask so convincing that she had failed to see through it completely. And she wondered, how long had he been feeling this way? Since Sasha’s death…? Or since the day he left that conference…? Or, was it much earlier?

She recalled seeing him cry in his sleep, under a tree at the young age of nine or ten. Apparently, he had been having a bad dream that he had no recollection of. And with all these revelation about the history of Ymir and the titans, changing the future… she could only wonder what he had seen back then which had pushed him to tears.

It took Mikasa a fleeting moment to realise that her heart was beginning to ache. And she wasn’t too blur to not know why. Though, she may not fully understand why.

Seeing Eren look like that… pained her.

The words Eren had said to her back then began to ring in her ears.

What am I to you, Mikasa?

She answered, ‘family’, back then. But even back then, she knew she was just lying to herself… or rather, she found it hard to convey such complex emotions at that time. He was more than just family to her.

For a long time, Mikasa Ackerman was in love with Eren Jaeger. Despite the amount of times he had pushed her away and even hurt her feelings during the times where he had to put her in place, her love for him remained unwavering.

It wasn’t just because he saved her back then, and had given her a second chance at life. It was much more than that. She admired his strength and his determination. But at the same time, she had always feared that those two things would drive him towards a fate leading to death. He had been stubborn, hot-headed and impulsive. If he wanted something, he was going to get it no matter what. And maybe that was why the raven had been more inclined to display her protective nature towards him. Because unlike Armin, there were several times he did things without thinking twice or without logic.

Though admittedly, the Eren standing in front of her now, seemed to have outgrown that hot-tempered phase of his. He looked and seemed more mature now, if anything.

She also loved him because of the warmth he gave her. He taught her how to live, and gave her comfort during tough periods in life. Though, he might not know this. He always did such… touching things without knowing that he did.

But the day he called her a slave, she felt the coldness sweep over her, extinguishing most, if not all the warmth he had given her. Even if he had come out and told the truth, that he hadn’t meant anything he had said, and that it was all just a part of his scheme to achieve the peace and freedom that everyone had now… the hurt remained. And Mikasa wanted to get away from it.

She wasn’t sure if her supposedly unwavering love had been extinguished along with his warmth at that time, but she knew she felt one thing back then: pain.

The man she came to love had called her a slave, and had also more or less claimed that any feelings she had held for him were all due to some Ackerman instinct and genetics. And then she felt another emotion: confusion. She couldn’t believe that this man who taught her how to live, threw her off to suffer in some sort of identity crisis.

Even till now, she was still confused. Because now, in the present, she didn’t know what she felt for him. Perhaps she did still have that unwavering love for him, because deep down, even at that time, a tiny flame in her heart which had survived from the brunette’s sudden coldness, had refused to believe that that man was the boy she grew up with, the boy she came to love and the boy who willingly saved her. That small part of her refused to believe that that was Eren Jaeger talking. As for the majority part of her… it had all sunken into despair, believing this fake truth he had said about the Ackerman genetics.

His words had bothered her so much to the extent that she had even reached out to that midget during Eren’s detainment after the war.

“Hah? Slave? Ackerman genetics?” Levi had scoffed. “I don’t know what that shitty brat is talking about. But as long as you’re a living, breathing thing, you have the choice of freedom, nobody else dictates that. They can throw you in a shitty dirty cage, but as long as you keep fighting and refuse to submit, you’re no longer tied down or trapped.”

Perhaps if Mikasa prolonged the conversation, her glum mind-set would’ve changed just a little from that Ackerman talk. But instead, she only nodded, murmured a thanks as she made her way towards the door. And all she thought was this: Can slaves even fight back?

Before she left his office, almost as if he read her mind, Levi said one last thing to her, “Oi, gloomy brat.” Mikasa paused in her steps briefly, and maybe if she hadn’t been in a sullen mood that day, she’d have retorted and called him a shortass. “You’re not a slave.”

Armin had also told her that. To no avail, the raven was still… uncertain. And she still didn’t know why. To reiterate, after Eren’s apology and revelation that he had been fooling the enemy all along, she then had some sort of awareness that the things he said back in that room were all fake, that it was just a façade. So why? Why did she still feel so—

“You’re not a slave, Mikasa.” That was Eren talking.

Perhaps, pain can blind people, and maybe it blinded Mikasa from accepting the fact that she wasn’t a slave to her genetics. Emotions have strong powers like that.

The raven’s eyes widened and before she knew it, her own pain began to pool in her eyes. She was crying.

“I’m sorry for calling you that. I… didn’t realise the extent it’d have affected you.” Eren murmured as he took a singular step forward, only for the raven to take a step back. He bit his lip. If he had known his words would’ve hurt her so deeply, then maybe he would’ve said something else.

Mikasa suddenly felt anger arising in her, accompanied by other emotions she had been bottling up ever since Eren came back to their side. Or maybe, ever since a longer time. And all those emotions, came out in her scream.

“You’re… just saying that!” She cried, “Armin told you to say that didn’t he?!” Mikasa already knew the amount of opposition her childhood friend had of having her leave like this. It wouldn’t surprise her if he had convinced Eren to say things like that for the sake of her staying. For all she knew, this was a lie, too.

Those words he had said—about her not being a slave—were something she wanted to hear from him for quite a while now. She didn’t think she’d have actually heard it. So when he had actually said it… she couldn’t believe it. She found it hard to believe. She was still in denial that he actually ran for her, to stop her from leaving.

Did he… really not see her as a slave?

“He didn’t!” The brunette fiercely retorted, “He told me you were leaving! I came here to stop you out of my own will! How… How could I let you leave like this? How could you leave without even saying a goodbye? Before I could ever have a chance to talk to y—”

“I…! I… I was afraid, Eren. Afraid.” She finally admitted, having cut him off, “I’m a coward, fine I admit that. I am running away from you. Isn’t this what you want?”

Eren blinked in disbelief. “Since when did I ever say that I wanted you to leave—”

“If I leave you, then I’m not a slave to you anymore right? I won’t be tied down to my Ackerman instincts anymore, right? If I am away from you then—”

Mikasa halted in her sentence mid-way upon noticing that his sad eyes were now leaking tears. He was crying too. Seeing Mikasa like this… just made Eren feel so sad, because he had unintentionally made her this way—that she still thought she was a slave. He had wanted to protect everyone, her included, so desperately. He wanted to save everyone from being trapped, he wanted to give everyone freedom beyond the walls. And yet, he failed to do so for the person he had cared for so deeply.

“I’m sorry.” He said again, but with more anguish that Mikasa didn’t fail to notice. “But Mikasa… you’re not a slave. Really, you aren’t. What I said back then… about you clinging to me because of your genetics… it isn’t true. It was never true. I know. I know you did that ever since we were kids because you cared.”

Eren was no longer blind to what Mikasa felt or what she had done for him all this time. He wasn’t a little reckless boy anymore, for the most part at least.

When she didn’t respond he continued, “And… ever since we were kids, Mikasa… I…”

Those familiar words caused her eyes to widen, they sounded extremely familiar and she knew why.

It was those words that had been haunting her for quite a while now. And she began to tremble, because she was afraid of what he might say next.

Ever since we were kids, Mikasa. I’ve always hated you.

She was afraid that he was going to say that next. But she was wrong, so wrong.

“I’ve never hated you. Not even once. Even when I shouted at you, I’ve never hated you.” It was the honest tone he had and the fact he had sounded so genuine that convinced her that this was the truth. From the way his eyes were still watery, from the way that his eyes still looked so soft… that she knew he wasn’t lying about that. And Mikasa didn’t take a step back this time.

“I don’t know when it was… when it all started… but Mikasa, for a while now… I… I—” Eren was cut off by the sound of a ship’s horn. Immediately, the two young adults turned to the ocean to see a ship with the same crest that was carved into Mikasa’s skin approaching.

The sun slowly began to wake up, and Eren didn’t have much time left before the ship approached the shores of Paradis.

“Please don’t go.” He quickly said. “Is… freedom what you want?” He suddenly asked.

Mikasa only looked back towards him, with tears still streaming down her face. She didn’t know what to believe anymore.

Why did emotions have to be so complicated?

But to Eren’s question, the answer was obvious enough. Who wouldn’t want freedom?

“Then stay, please.” He was pleading. “I…I will take away whatever pains you. I will remove the pain I gave you. I… I’ll make you happy, Mikasa. I won’t make you sad anymore. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for pushing you and everyone away. I wanted to carry this burden alone, so you and everyone else wouldn’t suffer. I wanted to finally put an end to everything, and achieve freedom. That’s why I said what I said. To severe bonds, because I didn’t want to risk any of you. And I regretted it. I still regret it… what I said to you. I didn’t think it’d… I… Mikasa, you are not a slave. You were never and will never be one. You… you are an amazing person, Mikasa. You… are free now, here, so don’t let my stupid and untrue words trap you.”

And just like that, she began to cry even more. Not because she still felt like he was lying. But because for the first time for as long as she could remember, her heart felt something other than pain from him. It felt touched.

And then, she felt a warm piece of fabric began to wrap itself around her neck. It felt nostalgic. This warmth was nostalgic. She missed it. She craved it. She loved it. It had always comforted her during cold times. Though, unlike last time, it seemed the matured male knew how to tie her red scarf more properly this time. “Remember… that time? When I said I’d wrap this around you as many times as you want.”

She nodded slowly. And before Eren could continue with his sentence, Mikasa murmured a question, “Why… do you want me to stay?”

Eren smiled a little, yet it looked so sorrowful. Shouldn’t it be obvious why?

“Because, Mikasa… you mean a lot to me, and I don’t want to let you go.” He mumbled softly, and he slowly closed the distance between them. The raven grew nervous, her heart was palpitating—and suddenly, she found herself melting in his warmth the moment she felt his sudden embrace.

When was the last time he had hugged her? The last time she remembered, the younger Eren was always bashful and shy towards hugs, so he was barely the one doing the hugging.

“You’re more than family to me, Mikasa…” He whispered softly into her ear, and Mikasa couldn’t tell if it was because of her scarf that her cheeks suddenly felt warm. “Mikasa… I… I l—”

“Sorry to ruin the moment!” A voice erupted, and interrupted the two. Reluctantly pulling away, the two turned to see Kiyomi Azumabito’s ship having reached their docks.

How long had they been there already…? It seemed like the two of them had been too caught up in the moment. The sun was already up.

Despite the fact the raven now wore her red scarf, Kiyomi’s eyes had been sharp enough to notice the red ruby necklace she wore underneath it. “Ah, so I see you’ve accepted our invitation!” She exclaimed with delight. A platform was slowly lowered for Mikasa to enter the ship. “Come aboard! We don’t have all day. The earlier we leave, the earlier we’ll arrive back to your home!”

Kiyomi gave a brief hidden signal to the guards, she wasn’t going to let that boy stop her from bringing the last descendant of the Azumabito back to Hizuru. If the girl willingly wanted to return home, she didn’t want to have any hindrances that could prevent her from doing as such. Once the platform was lowered, two guards came down and awaited for her to board the ship safely.

Mikasa’s hand raised up and wiped her tears away. And slowly, she took a small step back away from Eren. “Sorry, Eren.” She murmured as she carefully and gently removed the scarf from her neck. “Hold onto this for me.” She smiled.

Eren’s eyes widened as she placed the scarf in his hands and began to walk away, towards the ship. “Mikasa?! Wait—” Before he had the chance to chase after her, the two guards immediately held him back.

“Mikasa! Wait, no! Mikasa!” He called out, his tone growing desperate after each call—the same went with his struggles. But the raven continued to walk onto the platform, up towards Kiyomi who couldn’t hide her smirk.

Now, Mikasa was one step away from entering the ship. But, that’s when she stopped. Kiyomi raised a brow. “What are you waiting for?” She said calmly. “It’s best not to associate with a man who may be regarded as a criminal.” She added, as if to clear any doubts the raven had.

Except, all her doubts had already been cleared.

“Sorry.” She apologised to Kiyomi as her hands reached for behind her neck, taking off the necklace and then handing it back to her. “I’m not going to Hizuru.” She smiled as she turned back to the brunette who stopped struggling in the guard’s grasp. “I’ll stay here. This is my home after all.”

After apologising to Kiyomi for more or less wasting her time, the money-faced woman only heaved a heavy sigh. She was disappointed. She couldn’t believe that she didn’t want to return back to Hizuru. But, she knew she couldn’t force her back against her will, the last thing she wanted was to raise tensions between her and Paradis, and maybe even with that green-eyed male. She didn’t wish to start an argument with her nor be on bad terms with her. “You’re always welcomed to visit, young one.” With that, the ship left and they parted.

Mikasa rushed over to Eren, the soft smile still plastered on her lips. “You scared me there.” He sighed as he scratched the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry.” Mikasa apologised, which was accompanied with a small light-hearted laugh. “I just wanted you to hold onto the scarf so I could return the necklace.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t have to say it in a way that made it seem like you were really going to leave…” He murmured, and Mikasa swore he was pouting. How long has it been since she last saw him this childish?

She then started to laugh a little, she couldn’t contain it. And it seemed Eren caught onto it as he began to laugh too.

Meanwhile, somewhere behind a tree, there stood a blonde who sighed in relief. “I guess, I was worried for nothing.” He smiled.

[wispy-selfship-eden]

Yuletide Preparations - 2 (Final)

 May I present to all of you a follow up to Part 1! Enjoy! Funny how I get more into the spirit the more I write about trying to celebrate the holidays lol.

This one will definitely be longer because I can’t control myself ;; and its time for the ball and im rushing my dead ass to get things done.

I’ll definitely do more and involve more of my F/Os when I announce my own takeover! ><

@nougatships​ , bless you for making such a wonderful event. Thank you so so much!! ^^ And thanks to everyone else for being apart of this c: I can’t wait to see others at the party.

Featuring:

Mai - SI/Myself

Fuuma Kotarou, Katou Danzo, Nursery Rhyme, Elizabeth Bathory, and Abigail Williams - Fate/Grand Order

Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd - Fire Emblem Three Houses

Finnian - Black Butler

and many more to come!

Work count: 3.3k

---

“Please, Mai~?”

Mai sighs at the puppy dog eyes being directed at her. With the addition of her more cutie patootie boyfriends like Finnian, this continuing persuasion was starting to wear down some of her defenses.

“No, Finny…”

“What?!” His hands clasped her shoulders as he looks at her worriedly. “But why not?! I was looking forward to twirling you around like a princess at the ball!”

His eyes seemed watery as he fired questions left and right.

“Did someone say anything mean to you?! They probably don’t even know you! You’re always so beautiful day in and day out Ma—”

“Okay!! Okay Finnian, thank you! That’s really enough. Really,” Mai slaps one hand over his face in order to cover her reddening one with her other.

“Goodness gracious—if you keep this up, I won’t even be able to make it to the ball. I’ll be confined to my bed due to passing out from internal combustion.”

Finnian hesitantly let go on her insistence. But the small smile and giggle in response to his actions didn’t lighten up the twang in his heart.

Truth to be told, ever since the other night when the girls had tried on their dresses Mai has been a bit off.

Sure she’s used to putting on a brave facade when life gets rough, but this is winter break. She hasn’t worried about anything for a week… until the flyer was delivered to their doorstep, taped onto the front.

Others may have noticed, but for Finnian to see the proof in front of him…

Exhaling softly, he took Mai by the hand and sat them down on the couch. The girls were out shopping for christmas decorations for the home. The others were handling early christmas greetings with their families, or just going out to observe the holiday ambiance in public.

They were the only ones there, and the silence was overwhelming. 

“Are you not happy going, poppy?...” He asks quietly, turquoise eyes wide with concern.

Mai’s naturally hunched shoulders seemed to shrink in. She didn’t look up from the tabletop as she took deep breaths.

“It’s not that… I’m not excited or happy it’s just—”

There wasn’t a proper way to describe what she was feeling. Maybe her feelings were trivial and she should know the answers to her problems, but there was always doubt. Especially considering she’s begun to understand how it feels having these issues that she hears from others.

“FInnian… do you really think I’m… pretty?” Mai murmurs.

“You are!” He answers readily.

“Finnian, that is way too fast for an answer.” It incited a raised brow from her, along with an amused smile.

“But it’s the truth!” Sandwiching her hand between his own, he jostled it as he cheerfully proclaims, “In fact, not a day goes by where I would think otherwise. How could I?! I’m about as right as rain every day I get to see you!” If Mai had the ability to physically blush, she would be a steaming kettle at the moment.

“Finny now you’re just exaggerating,” she modestly remarks, smiling crookedly.

“Oh I’m not! Because when we all get there, you’re still going to be the most beautiful flower I get the honor of being with. Everyone else can and will say the exact same thing!”

It’s just a shame the fluttering sensation she would get after such reassurances were very, very brief. The doubt still gnaws at her heart.

“... Thank you. You’re always so sweet,” Mai leans in and embraces him intimately, cradling him as she buries her face in his hair.

A muffled giggle bloomed on her chest. “That tickles, flower.”

“Good! I’m glad I can make you laugh somehow.”

His hugs are always so wonderful. Warm like sunshine gracing itself to her.

But that wasn’t enough to completely blind her from the fact that a shopping bag still lay untouched in her closet.

When everyone else got home, Finnian had to rush back to his original home. He said that he would meet up with her at the ball for sure. 

Because his face would be the first thing she sees inside, he promised.

She held him up to it, but this anticipation did not sit well with her growing anxieties.

Before she knew it, it was already the next day. It was going to be hours before the ball would start, but time couldn’t be any swifter. It was, as usual, unwarranted.

But enough about her. She has to distract herself with focusing on the others. She feels a lot better in the end knowing they’ll be happy.

“Dimitri!” 

“Oh! Beloved,” His smile brightened up at seeing her rush down the hallway to him.

They exchanged an intimate hug before she pulled back and let out a low whistle, much to his sheepishness.

“Wow, look at you!~” Laughing lightly, Dimitri shook his head as he hung up his overcoat. “It couldn’t possibly be that pleasing to the eyes, Mai. Surely there will be others.”

“Absolutely not! God, why are you such a stud, Dimitri?” Mai asked as if genuinely baffled.

“B-Beloved, please—”

“Next thing you know, a cop might arrest you for being this inhumanly beautiful.”

Dimitri couldn’t find any words to say for fear that the redness would extend beyond his neck.

But how could Mai not freak out? After all, he looked nothing short of perfection in a modern formal suit. Formal wear would always be one of Dimitri’s fortes. His vest was a royal blue as an homage to him being a Blue Lion at heart, for his classmates. 

She did not appreciate how she felt heat swell up in her at how his body fit well into his garments. Were it not for a couple days ago, she would have pounced on him. But then at remembering the occasion, the dread pooled into her stomach.

“ved… Beloved?”

“Huh, wha—” Shaking her head, Mai refocuses her attention on Dimitri.

But now his face has morphed into a worried frown. “Oh my. I had heard that you were preoccupied with your thoughts, but it’s more prominent than I initially thought.”

He takes her hand in his and begins leading her upstairs, passing by the others who were looking over everything last minute. 

“Welcome home, Mister Dimitri!” Nursery Rhyme called from the kitchen as she was packing away her gingerbread men with Kotarou and Danzo.

“Please make sure you’re ready to go, Mas—I mean, Mai…” The red headed male fixed sheepishly, blushing behind his holiday scarf as Danzo fixed it up for him.

“We still have leeway to make it there leisurely, Fuuma-dono. Mai-dono, please do not pressure yourself. We have already prepared since the beginning, so everything will be just fine.” A reassuring smile was sent their way, and Dimitri nodded in appreciation. “Thank you, you two. It won’t take us long! We’ll be down before you know it.” “And our fellow feline better be wearing a dress by the time she comes down~” Elizabeth cooed.

Dimitri’s eyes widened at his hand being gripped tighter.

“...Mai?” He called out softly.

He couldn’t say more than that as Mai went ahead of him, dragging him by the hand until they made it within the confinements of her room.

Mai sighs harshly to herself as she closes the door behind her, pushing herself off it as she twiddles with her thumbs.

Staring warmly, Dimitri tries to meet her hiding eyes, intertwining hands. “Mai, whatever is concerning you, it will be okay… Remember what I said? I promised to always be there for you should you need an open ear and heart. How could I possibly be happy otherwise when my beloved is in distress?”

A giddish expression almost formed on her face had she not cleared her throat. But her ears did burn from his usual sweetness.

She adjusts her glasses and flitted her eyes to the side. But that movement didn’t miss his eyes, and his own travel over to her closet. On top of a few boxes was a shopping bag from a brand of formal wear.

“Oh, is that your attire for the upcoming ball?” A smile graced his lips (Oh why do they have to be so kissable god DAMN IT—).

“I’m sure you will look absolutely wonderful, my dear. If you would allow me to, I’d love to see it-” “Dima.” Any words he had in mind fell short at her grave tone.

“Mai…” She took her hand from his and sank her nails into her forearms.

“I just don’t… think I can do this,” she admits. Inhaling sharply, she elaborated unevenly,

“Go to the… ball I mean.”

Hia hand tenderly cups her face, his smile comfortingly warm. “Whyever not? I know you’ll be absolutely wonderful company there. It wouldn’t be the same without you there by our side.”

“That’s part of the thing. It’s nerves; being good enough to be with you all and, being among tons of other people who are,” she breathed unevenly in shutters, “absolutely wonderful and more charming.”

“Trust me, beloved. I’m a bit of a stiff myself when it comes to formal events. But, the invitation stated it’s supposed to be focused on enjoying the occasion. It’s like you told all of us: we are going to enjoy ourselves. As long as we can do that, then that’s all that matters,” Dimitri reassures.

Mai lets out a squeak when he leans in and kisses her forehead, brushing her fringe out of the way in the process. “I know that for me, my eyes could only go back to you and you alone.”

Oh fuck this feral prince charming incarnate. 

“Right, of course,” Mai laughs quietly and nods. She gives him a small smile before exhaling and biting down on her bottom lip lightly.

“The other issue is…” After glancing towards her bedroom door to make sure no one was listening, she turned back to him and properly met his eyes, despite the sharp blue they always are.

“I promised the girls that if I ever go to a party of any sort, then I would wear a dress… but considering my lack of confidence,” she laughed almost at herself as she remarks, “the self-positivity isn’t sufficient to the dress’s standards.”

Dimitri’s frown of disapproval at her words made her grimace in apology, but continued on, “I don’t like breaking a promise to them, but they’ve been waiting for a while! I guess what I’m trying to say is—”

“Mai.” Cupping her hands, Dimitri simply asks, “Do you not want to wear a dress for this event?”

There was a lull in their conversation as Mai mulled over her decision. The dress she had in mind came upon her when she went window shopping around town. It was the most gorgeous one that she laid her eyes on, and it fit her. She knew it did, going beyond her usual indecisiveness. But whether it was the huge price or the fact that her side eye caught girls who were much more aesthetically pleasing made her hesitant didn’t matter. She couldn’t bring herself to go inside. It took her so long until she went back into town for anything she might like.

With that in mind, she doesn’t want her efforts to go to waste.

“... No. I want… to wear it next time. Just not now,” Mai firmly answers. Nodding to herself, she confirmed that to be true.

“I’m sorry to disappoint though,” she apologizes.

After a chuckle left his lips, he muses, “I always believe you should be more concerned about me disappointing you.”

“Then it seems we’ve reached yet another impasse~” 

Their song and dance grew from a foundation of mutual self-deprecation. But it has gotten better over the time they spent together.

Mai huffs out a resolute breath. This was a night to have fun, and she’ll enjoy it the way she likes it to be. Plus, she made a compromise for when they celebrate the new year.

“Although I am a bit impatient, I will have the pleasure of being your official escort for the new year, my lady,” Dimitri jokes, standing up from her bed and holding her hand as if about to grace it with a kiss.

“Ha! You wish, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd. Since I’ll be dressing up like a prince as well, I’m going to sweep you off your feet first, along with everyone else’s.”

With a triumphant grin, Mai dove into her closet and pulled out her shopping bag, jostling it excitedly. “And you’re going to get the first peek!”

---

The Night of the Yuletide Ball…

“Ooooh, it’s almost time! Where are they?!” Elizabeth paced to and fro at the front entrance. 

They stuck out a bit considering more and more party goers entered inside. Some of them were holding their catering to the party, as well quite the growing selection of drinks.

“Now now let’s not get your panties in a twist, dragon princess.” Yan Qing snickered at the indignant shriek that escaped her when she batted at his arm, to no avail.

In short, all of them were dressed up to a T. Danzo was ethereal elegance with her custom furisode kimono. Kotarou was leaning towards a more western tradition and was also adorned with a suit to wear, along with Yan Qing. Though the latter took liberties and neglected his tie, which was wrapped around one of his wrists as some sort of bracelet.

The rest of Mai’s company was already inside with their friends and family, having already notified her in advance they would enjoy time together within the building.

“Besides, aren’t you the one who usually goes for being fashionably late?”

“That’s because I can pull it off! No offense to our cute master, but she has the fashion sense of a potato. Full of hidden potential, but always makes herself look so plain.”

“Don’t be so mean, Eli! Master is a cute potato!” Nursery, her alias being Alice, pouted, crossing her arms dramatically that it made her hair and dress swish with her movements.

“... So you’re not denying Master is a potato then,” Danzo deadpans, her eyes widened slightly in confusion.

“Please. Can we not address Our Lord as a vegetable?”

“Phooey! That argument doesn’t sound so convincing when you’re, as what our feline master calls you, a hentai protagonist!” Elizabeth retorts.

Much to his chagrin, Fuuma’s face reddened. And Yan only laughed at their banter. But Abigail was still searching. She hopes that Mai was doing okay.

“Big sis…”

That was when a car screeched to a halt in the distance. Passerby blinked at the noise before continuing on.

Abigail’s smile widened as she points out the dashing figures coming closer to them.

“Ah!! It’s them! It’s them!!”

When they got close enough, Mai was struggling to button up her blazer while Dimitri was struggling with the chain from his brooch.

“Dima, make sure you pin it through the cloth carefully. Think of it like a clasp!”

“O-Okay!” A faint click! and his hands parted to reveal his lapels connected by a silver chain from the brooch of a lion. It seemed to gleam from its golden polish.

“There! I got it!”

“And we made it—Guys!! We’re here!”

Mai and Dimitri pant slightly as they stumbled to regain their posture.

“I’m so sorry! There was just so much traffic and I wouldn’t forgive myself if we got here any later. I broke a few traffic laws and didn’t get pulled over by a cop; it’s good,” Mai reported with a mock salute, sighing heavily as she heaved.

“Wait, you did what—?!”

“Master~! Great to see you showed up!” Yan greeted Mai with a warm hug, to which she reciprocated with a chuckle as he lifted her off her feet briefly before putting her down.

“It’s so great to be with you all. I’m actually really excited now,” Mai and Dimitri exchanged smiles before Nursery and Abigail exchanged squeals and giggles at Mai’s attire.

“Waaaah, a prince!! You really did come as a prince!” “So handsome~!”

She felt her face burn from the compliments.

“You think so? I’m glad! I didn’t want to mess anything up, so I did the best I could.” Of course, Mai smiled and bowed apologetically to Elizabeth, who pouted and crossed her arms, as well as tapping one of her feet against the ground. Of course she was the most disappointed…

“I’m really really sorry, Liz… After much consideration, I have a perfectly reasonable answer as to why I committed such treason to your promise,” Mai expresses solemnly.

The pinkette’s eyes squinted challengingly. “Oh? Well enlighten me, Master. What could you possibly have been thinking as to go against my wish this  season?” 

“Well… it’s because,” Walking so she was standing in front of the dragon girl, Mai knelt like a knight and folded an arm across her chest, taking one of Elizabeth’s hands in her other.

If Elizabeth wasn’t flustered before, she most certainly was now with her tail swishing erratically.

“Wh-wh-wh-what is the m-meaning of this?!” She squeaks, cheeks rosy red.

“You see… I know you don’t get many moments in life to be pampered properly. That’s just the reality of things… but I figured since you should get the full experience of being at a ball, I wanted to treat you like the princess you are deep down.”

“M-Master…” Elizabeth’s eyes widened as it seemed as if a glittering aura surrounded Mai’s composed, yet almost regal smile. Eyes that shone with clarity and affection.

“My lady, allow me the honor to give you all that I have for you to have a wonderful time tonight, with the moon as witness to my word—”

“Oh gosh!!” Elizabeth took her hand out of hers and puffed her chest out, closing her eyes and smiling proudly in an attempt to hide her giddiness.

“Well, when you put it that way, then who am I to deny my fellow vassal?! If only you were honest sooner, you had us unnecessarily worried you know~!”

While Elizabeth was getting lost in her head, cradling her reddened face in her hands, Mai stood up, turned around, and flashed a smug grin and a thumbs up.

Simple-gon, Yan’s dull eyes pierced into the back of Elizabeth’s skull before exchanging the same dead looks with the others, over the young girls’ heads.

With the exception of Dimitri, who laughed then cleared his throat before reminding, “We should all head inside now! We wouldn’t want to keep our awaiting company held up any longer than necessary.”

Smiling softly, Danzo carefully guided the still giggling Elizabeth in, everyone following after, chattering as they all entered through the door.

“It really does suit you, My Lord,” The female ninja nods primly. “You look very happy. I’m glad.” Beaming, Mai nods and bows as much as she could while walking. “Thank you, Danzo… I’m happy too. Very, very happy…”

Finally, they all  made it to the heart of the room, where the Yuletide festivities awaited them, with the rest of their companions.

“Now, I’m not sure about all of you, but I am ready to hit up the booze table—” “Yan, we just got here!” “Don’t worry Master~! You know my alcohol tolerance works wonders. I’ll even get you a glass too.”

“Oh my god—I have another year to go!!”